A Muggle in Magical Britain
by Tegildess
Summary: When a Muggle girl penetrates wizarding security at the Quidditch World Cup and meets the one Weasley she ought to be avoiding if she wants to escape detection, a memory charm should be in order. But not all things go according to protocol... Please R&R!
1. The Spy at Stoatshead Hill

A/N: Thanks for reading! Just an idea I had as I re-read Goblet of Fire. I think that, occasionally, a muggle would have to get past all the wizarding security and see something. Anyway, enjoy! Disclaimer: I own nothing. 

**The Spy at Stoatshead Hill**

Edie Filbert was a completely ordinary muggle girl, not that she would have understood what the word "muggle" meant, anyway. She had an older sister, a younger brother, an even younger sister, two boring but well-meaning parents, and a nice small house in Devon (just outside Ottery St. Catchpole, to be precise). There was absolutely nothing extraordinary about her at all, except perhaps for the fact that she was a light sleeper and was awakened one morning in mid August to the sound of people talking loudly outside.

"So how _does_ everyone get there without all the muggles noticing?" someone asked.

Edie might have stayed in bed (she'd been having a very nice dream about that boy from her algebra class…) if she hadn't been intrigued by the word "muggle." Maybe it was a foreign language. She got up and staggered to her window. It had been such a dull summer. If these people were foreigners, and they were having trouble getting somewhere, then she'd be more than happy to help them along, if only for something novel to do.

"…organizational problem," another male voice was replying. "The trouble is, about a hundred thousand wizards turn up at the World Cup…"

Edie stuck her finger in her ear and twisted hard to get out the earwax. She was still half-asleep after all. Opening her window wider, she peered out at the strange passers-by. She could barely see them, the wind had to be carrying their voices, but they looked to be a party of nine or so, lugging heavy packs. Camping, maybe?

"… Apparate, of course, but we still have to set up safe points for them to appear, well away from Muggles. I believe there's a handy wood they're using as the Apparition point…"

Edie cleaned out her ears again, but it was a mere formality. There was that word again– "Muggles." And they kept talking about, what was it? Attrition? In the nearby wood? That didn't make any sense. Edie knew she was being incredibly nosy, but she was invested in this strange little group now, and she wanted to know what they were doing camping _so_ early in the morning, and what was their odd dialect.

"… Potkeys placed at strategic points around Britain, and the nearest one to us is up at Stoatshead Hill, so that's where we're headed."

Stoatshead Hill! That wasn't far at all! Edie watched the group as they made their way quietly into the main village, clearly not wanting to be heard by the sleeping villagers… Muggles? It was strange, but Edie decided then and there that she was going to figure out what this strange _World Cup_ they were talking about was. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed her sweater, camera, notebook, and pen, and snuck downstairs.

Deciding it was safest that her parents didn't panic when they woke up and found she was gone, she wrote a quick note and stuck it to the refrigerator:

_Looked like a good morning for a jog, might go to Gina's house after. Be back later. Love, Edie._

She grinned as she pulled on her sweater and ran out the door. It wasn't a lie. Edie would have to run if she wanted to catch those strangers on top of Stoatshead Hill, and if she found out anything interesting, she would most definitely tell her friend about it.

It had been such a dull summer.

Edie panted all the way up the hill– she wasn't quite as in shape as she should have been. She sighed happily as she crouched down in the brush to watch the nine strangers. Now that she was closer, Edie could see each person very clearly; there was a middle-aged man with vivid red hair, two stocky boys with red hair who looked like they might be twins, a taller boy with freckles (and the requisite fiery hair), a girl with long , straighter red hair, a somewhat older girl with thick, bushy brown hair, a boy with black hair and glasses, a taller, muscular boy, and another grown man clutching what looked to be a partially rotted leather boot.

"… but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!" they man with the boot was saying, grinning as he clutched the muscular boy's shoulder. The black-haired boy, who Edie took to be "Harry" due to his thoroughly miserable expression, looked down at the grown silently. _Flying?_

"Must be nearly time," said the other older man, likely the father of all the red-heads in the bunch. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," replied Amos, the one who'd been going on about broomsticks and flying and whatnot. Edie had to cover her mouth to stifle a gasp. She _knew_ she'd heard the name Lovegood before… that was it! They lived near the village too, and her parents must have been talking about their property. Edie's dad was a surveyor and she was sure he had mentioned something about the Lovegood's house not being up to code.

The nine members of the strange party suddenly all began to crowd around the man, Amos, with the boot. The boy with the glasses looked around quickly, as though getting the idea that someone was watching (or fearing it was so), but Edi hardly had a chance to hide better. As the red-haired man began to count down to something, a light flashed and, for a moment, Edie swore she saw the group's feet lift from the ground as they began to spin around the center… the boot? Then, they were gone.

Edie ran to the place on the hill where they had been standing. Nothing. She rubbed her eyes. She _knew_ they had been there. Hadn't she heard them talking? Grabbing a sharp stick from the ground, Edie poke herself in the leg.

"Ouch!" she cried, and muttered, "That was stupid," as a dot of red blood appeared through her jeans. She ripped out her journal from her pocket.

_Nine people on Stoathead Hill grab a boot and disappear._

She pressed her finger to the blood spot on her jeans and then onto the paper so she could just see a faint red fingerprint. _It was real_, she wrote.


	2. Edie Fawcett Lovegood

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the last chapter enough to read this– it's going to be a lot more fun now that Edie will start meeting real witches and wizards. :) 

Disclaimer: Own nothing, scared of lawyers, please don't sue me. Thanks!

**Edie Fawcett-Lovegood**

Edie sat down on the top of the hill to think. This was really, really,_ really_ weird, but hey, hadn't she wanted an interesting summer before she had to go back to school and deal with all the stress and pain of applying to universities? She pulled out her notebook and began to write.

_Weird Words:_

_wizards (only because they call themselves that)_

_muggle (someone who isn't a wizards? People they don't want to see them)_

_Portkey (said there were lots around Britain, theirs on the hill--- the boot)_

_World Cup (probably a code name for the event they're meeting for--- said thousands of "wizards" would come. Wiccan rally, possibly?)_

_Flying/broomsticks (more code words, no idea)_

_Apparate/Apparition (sounds like "appear," so maybe how they travel)_

_Other notes:_

_said other "apparition point" was in the forest_

Edie figured that had to be the Black Forest– it was a small dense wood by the village.

_seemed to really disappear, like magic_

Edie stopped writing at this and had a sudden urge to erase her words. Magic? She knew they called themselves wizards, but could they really be– No. No, no no. It was simply too ridiculous of an idea to entertain. She should go home now, get back in bed, and pretend that none of this had ever happened. What did she think she was doing, anyway? Even if they _were_ wizards (which was absurd!), how was she supposed to get to this World Cup thingy they were meeting at?

_Go to the Black Forest and find the other group._

The words seemed to pop, unbidden, into her head.

"That's silly," she said, as if her words would have more force if spoken aloud. "Even if I do find these people, they'll know I'm a… I'm a… muggle." But again, the thought popped into her mind.

_The Fawcetts couldn't get tickets._

Edie began to shake a little. She could pretend to be one of the Fawcetts, whomever they were, and say they'd just managed to get tickets right in time… that her parents sent her along first so she wouldn't miss the… Portkey, that was it. Maybe this could work…

She glanced at her watch. 5:10. She didn't know when the next group was slated to take off, but she should get there as soon as possible, just in case. Not knowing what had taken possession of her, and half believing herself quite crazy, Edie sped down the hill and sprinted to the forest. She was hardly even winded when she arrived– maybe there was such a thing as magic after all.

"Oh, don't leave without me! Don't leave without me!" Edie cried as she ran into the wood. "We just got tickets but we missed the last Portkey and Dad said that– Oh!"

Edie had just barely missed running straight into a large group of people standing in such a still circle that she hadn't seen them.

"Er… sorry," she muttered, blushing bright red. An older lady smiled down at Edie kindly, not knowing that she wasn't so much embarrassed as absolutely terrified that her plan had worked. This had to be the group– all fifteen or so of the people, all adults this time, were dressed in such an outlandish fashion as to make it very clear to Edie that she had found the right place. One man wore a woman's apron over a striped men's business suit. The kind older woman had a bright floral muumuu, black stockings and boots, and a pink and yellow raincoat. One man was dressed in a scuba-diving wetsuit. Edie smiled faintly.

"Well, hurry up! Hurry up!" said the man in the suit and apron who was likely the leader of the troupe. "Just touch the corn cob, please, only a finger– that's right. We have about thirty seconds, I expect."

Edie touched her index finger gingerly to a dried-out corn cob half eaten by squirrels. This could not be happening.

"Thanks," said Edie, trying not to look terribly uncomfortable. "We were going to take the Portkey on Stoatshead Hill, but they must've left without us– we just got our tickets. Dad sent me here so we could get a spot at the, er, for the World Cup."

"What's your name, dearie?" asked the kind old woman.

"Fawcett!" Edie said quickly. "Yes, er, Fawcett."

"Oh, yes," said the man in the wetsuit knowingly. "Met your father at the Ministry once, I did. Said he had a daughter at Hogwarts. How do you like it so far?"

Edie tried to smile confidently, but it came out like more of a grimace. _Hogwarts?_ What the heck? "I– I love it. It's great…"

"Here we go!" said the aproned man, saving Edie from answering any more questions. "Three… two… one!"

Before Edie had a chance to prepare, she felt something jerk behind her navel. Her feet lifted off the ground and… she was spinning, everything a blur. Then, she'd fallen flat on her face in the middle of an empty, foggy moor. She got up quickly, and grabbed her camera, which had fallen from her pocket. It was smoking. Turning her back to the others, she tried to turn it on, but a couple sparks spit out of the battery. Well, that was one Christmas present destroyed. She placed it gently onto the grass and sighed– thankfully, no one had seen. They all seemed to be drinking in the surroundings.

"Fifteen past five from the Black Forest, Ottery!" cried a voice from behind her. Edie whirled around, startled. The rest of the group was already talking to two tired-looking men holding clipboards– no, on second glance, it wasn't a clipboard but a thick roll of parchment. A large gold quill was floating in air, scratching onto the roll. Edie nearly passed out.

"Quirke, you said? That's Field Two, site manager's named Payne… yes, travel this early is a pain, I quite agree… Danver? Third field, about a mile's walk. Apparate? No, sorry, not allowed. Site managers all Muggles, couldn't be helped. Diggle, eh? Third field as well. Hey! Put that wand away! There are Muggles about!" and so on and so on. Edie kept to the back of the line. She couldn't have her traveling companions hear that "Fawcett" wasn't on the list.

"And you are?"

Edie looked up nervously. "Er… Lovegood!" she choked. Hadn't she heard that the Lovegoods were already at the site?

"You must be Luna, then? Xeno said you might pop in and out."

"That's right," said Edie. "I'm Luna."

"You know, my niece is in Ravenclaw House," said the man with the parchment, musing. "How do you like it?"

"Oh, oh, it's very nice," said Edie. Ravenclaw House? Her school had a house system too– it wasn't uncommon– but she had never heard of Ravenclaw House. Unless… was it part of that Hogwarts school she'd been asked about? "I– I love Hogwarts."

The man nodded pleasantly; Edie had clearly hit upon the right answer. Thank goodness! She had felt for a moment that she was going to pass out– her legs were still like jelly.

"You're field one, ask for Mr. Rob– oh, well, you've already been down there! Have fun, and tell your father hello for me!"

Edie smiled and nodded, heading down the path to field one, so lost in her thoughts that she hardly realized she'd reached the site, even when she passed a ridiculously large silk tents with peacocks mulling about outside. Then, she stopped stock-still.

There they were– the red-headed family she had seen on Stoatshead Hill! They had just put up two tents and were crawling inside. Edie gasped and turned away, afraid that the black-haired boy really had seen her and would recognize her for not being magic.

"Hey!"

"You look a bit hungry, hmm?"

"The snack spots here are terribly expensive, though."

"We can give you something for free. Here, take a toffee."

It was the twins, the stocky red-haired twins from the Hill. They were grinning, one of them holding a brightly wrapped candy out for her to take. Edie shook her head.

"I- I'm not hungry… I have to go…" Edie turned, but one of the twins had circled around to block her exit.

"You look a little lost," he said.

"There are some dangerous characters around here, you know."

Edie shook her head feebly and slid out of the twins' grasp. She was walking as fast as she could when one of them yelled after her–

"We know what you are!"

Edie spun around, eyes wide. "Wh- what are you talking about?"

"It's actually quite impressive, when you think about it," said one of the boys. "A Muggle, getting to the Quidditch World Cup."

"Although…" said the other, drawing himself up and crossing his arms severely. "It's quite against the _rules_. If anybody found out, you'd have your memory wiped like that!" He snapped.

Edie looked up desperately. "I didn't know– I just was sleeping when I heard… I just wanted to see!" she cried. "Don't wipe my memory, please! I won't tell anyone I saw any of this, I swear! I just want to remember… You won't report me, will you?"


	3. How To: Fake Magic

**How To: Fake Magic**

"Report you?" asked one of the twins, a pained look on his face. "Are you _kidding_ me?"

"Seriously," said the other. "Who do you think we are, Percy? This is bloody brilliant!"

Edie felt a sudden rush of relief, gratitude and amazement. She was safe… kind of. As long as she stuck with those two, no one would ever know she wasn't a witch. Of course, two young wizards who weren't going to report an intruding Muggle girl probably weren't the best company for someone trying to keep out of trouble.

"Come on, in the tent," one of the twins beckoned. Edie followed, not knowing what else she could do. Her plan had essentially run out after she had gotten past the two men with the parchment clipboards… and that weird floating quill.

Edie crawled inside the tent and felt like she was going to faint again. It was a house, complete with kitchen and couches and funny crocheted seat covers that smelled a bit like cats.

"But outside– this was­– _how?_" she spluttered. The twins grinned.

"It's _magic_," one of them said slowly.

"Thought she'd've figured that out by now…" the other one muttered. Edie blushed. She had flown through space and time that morning, and yet… every new little thing she saw seemed completely unbelievable. A part of her still believed that this was all a dream, or maybe it wanted to.

"I'm Fred, and this is my brother George," said one of the boys, pointing to his counterpart. "We're _twins_, you know."

Edie smiled, embarrassed. "I know some things," she muttered.

George laughed. "Yes, and I'm sure my dad would like to talk all about them to you, but–"

"– We're going to help you out, show you how to fake magic," Fred finished for his brother.

Edie shook her head. "_Fake_ magic? I don't understand. I didn't think it was something you could, you could…" she trailed off. This was far too much for her.

"Well, you're right, you'll never be able to do it yourself," said Fred with a nod.

"Not that there's anything wrong with that," George added kindly. "But underage witches and wizards aren't allowed to use magic outside of school anyway, so if you know enough _about_ magic…"

"I can pretend I'm a– I'm a witch," Edie said steadily. George nodded enthusiastically.

"So here's the thing," said Fred. "You're going to keep your own name."

"Edie Filbert," Edie said promptly.

"What a name," Fred muttered. "Anyway, that's your name. You go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and– what's so funny?" Edie was stifling laughter behind her hand.

"Sorry, sorry," said Edie. "It's just­, I've been thinking all day– what kind of name is _Hogwarts_?"

"What kind of name is _Ee-Dee Filbert?_" Fred said out of the side of his mouth. George looked up quickly.

"You already heard about Hogwarts?"

Edie nodded. "I had to pretend to be someone named… Luna, Luna Lovegood, and someone said something about Raven House, at Hogwarts."

"Ravenclaw, yeah, that's one of the four houses," said George, looking thoroughly impressed. "What else do you know about?"

"Er, Portkeys, and Muggles, and this is all the World Cup, right? That's really it," said Edie, shrugging.

Fred nodded. "This is the World Cup, the _Quidditch_ World Cup. Quidditch is a sport played on broomsticks." Edie's eyes widened in amazement. "Yes, broomsticks, but you don't need to know much more about Quidditch, I expect."

"You won't be able to get into the stands," George explained. "There are Muggle-repelling charms all around it. If you get too close, you'll forget what you were trying to do and head off to feed pigeons or something."

Edie winced. "I don't want to forget," she said quietly.

"Then _stay away_ from anybody loud, or important-looking, or dressed like a proper Muggle, or dressed like a proper idiot," Fred said. "They might work for the Ministry."

Edie didn't find that particularly helpful, but she kept her mouth shut.

"Anyway," said George. "You need an identity. You're Edie Filbert, Ravenclaw at Hogwarts, favorite subject… Muggle Studies, I expect you'd be top of your class in that one, right?"

Fred continued with the recitation: "Your favorite teacher is Professor Flitwick (he's your head of House, too), you can't stand Professor Snape (he teaches Potions, and he's a right git). How do you do in Muggle school?"

Edie sat up straight. "I'm number two in my class," she said proudly, then looked down. "I think you should just make me average, though. If I'm supposed to be smart, they might expect me to know more things about m-magic than I do."

The twins nodded approvingly, and Fred told her that, if anybody asked, she got six OWLs, whatever that meant.

"And don't forget– the Cup is between the Irish and the Bulgarians. If someone's dressed in green, tell them you think Lynch is brilliant. Its it's red, then tell them you think Krum is brilliant. In fact, you could probably tell anyone you think Krum is brilliant."

So Edie spent the morning memorizing her magic life, and making detailed notes in her journal. Fred and George were just about to tell her about someone named Serious Black (she'd learned that lots of famous wizards and witches had weird nicknames) when Fred let out a groan.

"Darn it!" he muttered. "They're here."

"Who are here?" Edie asked nervously. Certainly not any Ministry officials Fred and George had told her about, who'd wipe her memory if they got the whiff that she was a Muggle.

"Our other brothers," said George darkly. "And there's one in particular you _don't_ want to meet."

"He'd turn you over in a second," Fred added. "Go on, peek out the door."

Edie crept to the entrance to the tent and peered out. Three new arrivals stood outside, and Edie realized right away which of the three the twins were talking about. Tall, thin, impeccably dressed, and wearing horn-rimmed glasses and an extremely pompous expression.

"There's a back way out," said Fred, "Through the bathroom. You should be able to find it. Just get out quick before precious _Percy_ sees you and rats you out."

"Though," George added pensively. "I think you'll be all right. You catch on fast." He smiled encouragingly, and Edie smiled right back. She turned to find her way out, but thought of one last question.

"Wait– Fred, George?"

"Yep?"

"How did you know I was… I… I wasn't really a witch?"

Fred and George laughed. "You were in a complete daze," Fred said, shaking his head. "Whatever got you through to that point, well, it wasn't going to last.

"And we think very highly of anybody who can outsmart the Ministry," George added. "It would have been a complete travesty if you'd been caught before seeing something really worthwhile."

Edie grinned and clasped her hands together to hide how much they were shaking. She was going to be out on her own now, dodging people like Percy who would think it a travesty that she _hadn't _been caught before seeing something worthwhile.

"Thanks," Edie said shakily.

"Keep in touch!" said George with a broad smile. Then, his smile faltered. "Here, give me your notebook." He took Edie's journal and scribbled in an address.

"Write us and say what happened, if you get through," George said. "And if you get caught, well, write anyway."

Edie nodded, and watched the twins exit the tent to greet their family. She herself exited through the bathroom and took a deep breath.

"WATCH OUT!"

Too late. A little girl on a broomstick had collided with the back of Edi's head, knocking her to the ground.

"Oh, oh, oh!" said the girl in a squeaky voice. "Mum's going to be so mad at me! You won't tell will you? Here– you can have a ride!"


	4. Percy Weasley, or DO NOT FORGET!

**Percy Weasley**

Edie rubbed the back of her head and looked at the little girl in trepidation. She was probably about seven or eight, holding out her broomstick with such a terrified expression that Edie had the sense that she might be the less frightened of the two, for a change.

"I don't know if I _could_ ride it," Edie said nervously. "I'm really, really awful on a broomstick." She had to suppress a wry smile at this invention. That had to be the understatement of the century.

"Oh, it's okay," said the girl, shaking her head solemnly. "It's not a _real_ broomstick or anything. It's just a toy. But Mum and Dad are napping, and my sis took Dad's wand and she must've done something to do it– it's not supposed to fly that high at all."

Edie grasped the end of the broom, wanting desperately to give it a try, but afraid that, if she couldn't do it properly, she'd be revealed for what she was… or wasn't.

"_Anybody_ can ride," the little girl added fervently. "It's just a toy." She giggled. "I have a little Muggle cousin, and _he_ can ride it. It's true!"

Edie put on what she hoped was an impressed face. "Well, if your little Muggle cousin can do it, maybe I can too."

The child nodded eagerly. This had to make up for knocking Edie in the back of the head. She couldn't possibly tell on her now!

Edie placed a leg over the broomstick and felt it slowly rise until she was about two feet off the ground. "Oh- Oh- oh no," Edie muttered as the broom rose higher and higher– three feet, four feet, and Edie promptly fell off.

"Ouch," Edie moaned, rubbing her hip as she sat sprawled on the grass. There would definitely be a bruise there the next morning.

"Er, wanna try again?" the girl asked kindly. "It's always hard the first time."

"And it will not get any easier, considering that you will not be doing it another time!" a voice rang out. Edie hardly had the time to jump up and see who it was before the voice broke out into another reprimand. "Flying any sort of broomstick is prohibited by the Ministry of Magic! _You_ at least should be old enough to realize this."

Edie gaped. In front of her, glaring, was a tall red-haired boy with horn-rimmed glasses.

"Percy," Edie muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Er, you must be Percy Weasley!" Edie said, sticking out a hand and pretending to be simultaneously delighted to meet him and extremely embarrassed that she'd been caught breaking the rules. "I'm Edie Filbert. I remember you from Hogwarts– Head Boy, right? And you work for the Ministry now, don't you? The Department of, er, International Magical Cooperation? That's really impressive. I mean, you must have had a big hand in organizing this whole, well, all this."

Percy looked somewhere between mollified and highly suspicious, if that was possible. Edie chimed in again before he could ask any questions.

"I really didn't mean to endanger security," she added hastily. "There's something wrong with the broomstick– it's not supposed to fly that high. I was trying to sort it out, and, since I'm not allowed to use magic outside of school…"

The mollified side had won out. Percy crossed his arms sourly, but didn't start on about Ministry regulations again. He glanced at Edie severely and pulled out his wand, flicking it so that it spouted purple sparks. She jumped back about a foot and raised her hands to cover her face. Percy, possibly more alarmed than she was, ran after her.

"I wasn't going to _curse_ you. I was fixing the broom," he said, leaning over earnestly, hand secure in gripping her shoulder. "I don't know what gave you that idea, Ministry officials are not permitted to engage in any sort of vigilante justice outside of the law, not that you've done anything that required even minor legal action. It was a breach of security, but, of course, it was just a mistake. Do you understand?"

Edie nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. All of a sudden, she realized just what little defense she had in this world of magic. Were there spells that could hurt her, kill her even? It had all been a sort of adventure up until then. She hadn't even seen a wand until then, actually. She nodded.

"Right, sorry, I'm just a little jumpy," Edie said quietly. "It was a stressful morning."

"Can I take my broomstick back now?" the little girl, until-then forgotten, asked timidly. Percy nodded, and the child ran off. The spell broken, Percy quickly let go of Edie's arm and stood up straight again. Edie felt surprised to find that she wished he hadn't.

"You'll be getting your apparition license soon, I expect," Percy said pompously, puffing out his chest. "I can already do it, of course. Really quite straightforward, once you get the hang of it. Improperly done, however, and there can be some nasty consequences. A couple splinched themselves trying to get here today, you know. Nasty stuff. Took a lot of Ministry personnel to work everything out."

Edie made a mental note to add the word "splinch" to her growing wizarding vocabulary, but made no outward sign that she really had no idea what Percy was talking about.

"I've never seen someone Apparate before," Edie said coyly, angling for some further magical demonstration. "Will you show me? Unless, of course, it's against Ministry rules," she added solemnly.

Percy looked exceptionally pleased, possibly more for Edie's consideration for the Ministry than her asking him to demonstrate a complicated magical feat.

"Certainly, certainly, I'll show you," Percy said proudly. "Just wait, I'm going to Apparate to that tree over there. Watch."

Edie watched, but nothing could have prepared her for the sensation of watching somebody disappear and reappear ten feet away in a split-second. This time, the flattery was not insincere.

"Oh, that was amazing!" Edie cried rapturously, running over to join Percy at the tree. "Absolutely amazing! I can't wait until I learn to do that!" Edie's face suddenly fell. For a moment there, perhaps as long as it took Percy Weasley to Apparate from the tent to the tree, Edie really had believed that she would someday be able to do just the same thing.

"Now don't be discouraged," Percy said heartily. "It's not so hard. If you really focus, I have no doubt you'll succeed eventually."

Edie smiled and pretended to be reassured. "Right, right. Thanks. And thanks for showing me."

Percy nodded and smiled. "Nothing, nothing at all. I really should be getting back, though. My boss has a lot on his hands and I should be there if he needs my help. He relies on me quite a bit, Mr. Crouch. It was very nice to meet you, though, very nice to meet you."

Edie smiled and echoed "nice to meet you" faintly as Percy turned and walked off with a spring in his step. He seemed to have forgotten what the circumstances surrounding their meeting had been in the first place.

Edie touched her shoulder lightly and sighed. Pulling out her notebook, she wrote:

_Percy Weasley– Works in Ministry with a Mr. Crouch, was Head Boy at Hogwarts. Sort of self-important, but kind. Tall, red hair, glasses. DO NOT FORGET!_


	5. Flying Lessons

**Flying Lessons**

Stashing her notebook in her back pocket, Edie got up with a sigh and began to walk down the path toward Field Two, taking everything in. One large tent was covered completely in growing clovers, another with the picture of a scowling man's face. She figured it must be that Krum Fred and George had told her about. She thought it looked more like a picture of Big Brother. As it turned out, someone was watching her after all.

"Hey you! What are staring at?" Edie realized that she had been standing in the same spot looking at Krum move around the tent for five or so minutes. She had to look like an idiot, and it wasn't the way to be inconspicuous.

"Oh, oh, sorry," Edie said to the young witch who had been watching her suspiciously, and, remembering something else the twins had told her– "He's brilliant, isn't he? Krum?"

The witch's face lit up. "Oh _yes_!" she said fervently. "He's amazing, best flier I've ever seen! I've put twenty galleons on Bulgaria winning; there's no way Krum won't catch the snitch."

"Oh, I hope he does," said Edie with a nod. "It's just awful, the way magic can go wrong like that. I don't think I'll ever Apparate."

Edie could tell from the witch's expression that she had said something wrong. Catch the snitch? Catch the… Edie felt her heart start to beat faster and heard the blood pounding in her ears as she saw the mistake. _Snitch_, not _splinch_. The Golden Snitch was a little ball with wings the seeker had to catch in Quidditch. Edie had mistakenly confused it with Percy's story about the couple's Apparition injury.

"What are you talking about?" the witch asked, confused. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing!" Edie said quickly. "I don't know what's wrong with me lately…I should go lie down. It's been such a long day. Nice to meet you!" She turned and began to walk quickly down the path again, not knowing where she was going but desperate to get away from the witch's piercing glance. Edie felt, somehow, beyond a doubt, that that witch _knew_. Edie had to do something, or she'd be caught and–

"Obliviate!" Fred had shouted gleefully. "That's the spell they use to wipe your memory. You won't be able to dodge the Ministry for long if anybody finds out, but I bet you'll have a good run. Course, if you _do_ get caught, you'll never remember any of this."

_No!_ Edie's head cried out. She would not be caught. This had been the strangest day of her life, but it had also been amazing. True, she hadn't seen much impressive magic yet, not a fraction of what she bet these people could do at the Ministry or that Hogwarts, but the important thing was that she knew magic existed. She would have willingly agreed not to ever try and contact any witch or wizard again, if she could just go home with memory intact and simply _know_ that magic was real.

And maybe she could. She could feign an illness… no, they might try to cure that magically. She could pretend she received an urgent message from her mother and needed a Portkey back immediately. Come to think of it, Edie's mother probably would be worried sick, likely having contacted Gina and found that the note was a lie. Edie felt a twinge of regret, but shook her head. There were more pressing concerns at the moment.

There– there was a man in an impeccable Muggle (it amazed Edie how quickly even she had begun to use her new vocabulary, even in thought) business suit. His shoes were perfectly polished, and his hair combed impeccably. He looked far too normal to Edie to possibly be a wizard, and she, with a deep breath and a quick run-through of her story, took a step toward the man.

"Excuse me, sir, I–"

The wizard had turned his back to address someone approaching from the other side. Edie gasped and ran to hide behind a nearby tent, feeling like kicking herself. Percy Weasley again! Even in her quick glance, Edie couldn't mistake the red hair and earnest expression.

"Yes, thank you Weatherby…" "No, no, it's nothing Mr. Crouch! I'm nearly done; I can get it in on Tuesday."

So the impeccably dressed wizard was Mr. Crouch, definitely a Ministry wizard­– Edie had picked the right target for her plan, after all. She could still go through with it… but Percy didn't seem to want to ever leave his boss's side. Maybe Edie would have to approach Mr. Crouch with Percy there. It might help. Maybe Percy would offer to take her home. Maybe– no. It was a ridiculous idea. She had to escape now, before she was found out; Percy would only be a distraction. He might try to talk to her for a while, or introduce her to Mr. Crouch… or to his family… and then it might come out that she already knew the twins, and _that_ would raise some questions. No. Miserable, Edie ripped herself away from _Weatherby_ and Mr. Crouch to find another Ministry wizard she could get to send her home.

She hadn't got a couple yards before she had to hide behind a tent again. A middle-aged wizard in a suit and apron was talking to an older woman with glasses and a roll of parchment. She was scribbling frantically.

"That's right," the man was saying. "Said she was a Fawcett, she did, but my wife got here a couple days ago and she knows the Fawcetts fairly well– they aren't here, didn't get any last minute tickets either."

Edie wanted to scream. They were onto her. All her lies, tricks, disguises and mistakes were catching up and she was going to have her memory wiped. Edie wondered if she ought to just give herself up right then, before she made any more wrong moves. At least she wouldn't have to run and hide and nearly have a heart attack every five minutes. And yet… there were things that happened today she didn't want to give up… As quietly as she could manage, she opened her notebook, tore out half of one of the first pages, and stuffed it deep into her sock.

"…Basil said someone of that description called herself Luna Lovegood. Well, I know the _real_ Lovegoods, and his daughter didn't look a thing like that girl. Straight blonde hair, and blue eyes– really pale, too. This girl was covered in freckles, and had really dark hair, curly. My wife talked to Mr. Lovegood, you know. He said his daughter's hair might have just _looked_ dark because of _wrackspurt_ or something. But I know what I saw– not the same girl." He cut off and glanced at the scroll. "Close, close, but her nose might have been a little sharper there… that's about it."

The woman with the parchment had her back to Edie, and Edie gasped to see what she was doing. Rather than take notes on what the aproned man was saying, she was sketching a picture of a young girl's face– Edie's face, and it was _moving_.

Edie had seen the moving picture of Viktor Krum, but that was nothing, _nothing_ to seeing her own drawn portrait blinking and smiling out from the scroll. After a couple seconds, a skeleton hand reached up to brush a wisp of hair behind an ear.

"And I found _this_." The man held up a partially melted digital camera up for the witch to see. She grunted.

"You'd think a girl smart enough to sneak through all the Ministry's anti-Muggle security would know that Muggle do-dads malfunction when around magic. And all the magic going on around _here_, well, goodness."

"Anyway, I'm going to have this copied and posted around the grounds," said the older woman in a grating voice, waving the parchment in the air. "Doubt even this Muggle can do much harm, but it's best if we find her quickly and get that memory wiped. Barty'll have a right fit if anything happens. Thanks for the information."

"Sure, sure, nothing to it," said the wizard. "I hope we get this all straightened out."

"Oh we will," said the witch darkly. "I'm not missing the cup to look for some sneaking Muggle girl all over the place. _Really_."

Edie pressed herself up against the tent as they passed and tried to catch her breath. There went one plan. Soon, all the Ministry officials on site would be on the lookout for her. All the witches as wizards would know have seen a poster and be keeping their eyes peeled. Escape was hopeless now, unless…

"There are other Muggles here!" Edie whispered excitedly. Hadn't someone mentioned a Mr. Roberts, the Muggle site manager? It was perfect! She could hide with him and no one would ever suspect a Muggle hiding from the wizarding world to do it in plain sight, with all the other Muggles.

Mr, Roberts was a very nice man, with a very nice wife and a very nice young son. They all were extremely accommodating when Edie found their tent (normal-sized interior, of course) and asked if she could stay for a few hours. She didn't even need to use one of the stories she'd made up for the occasion, and she could guess why. All three of the Robertses wore what seemed to be a permanently bemused sort of expression.

_Is that what a memory charm does to you?_ she wondered miserably as she played an endless game of chess with little Robert Roberts Junior. Each of them had so few pieces left that "checkmate" didn't even seem possible. More time for thoughts– perfect.

But even that goal seem unlikely. In the distance, Edie was sure she could hear the roaring and cheering of a huge crowd. A couple hours before, the witches and wizards had begun to migrate from the vast moor to some unidentified Muggle-free zone. Edie, following Fred and George's advice, didn't even try to follow. Quidditch probably wasn't her sport, in any case. She absolutely _hate_ heights… and broomsticks, to think about it.

"What do you think they're all doing here?" Mr. Roberts asked rather carelessly as he picked his teeth with the end of his fork (Mrs. Roberts had cooked dinner, _thank goodness_. In all the panic of running away from wizard authorities, Edie had forgotten she was starving). "Can't all be camping, right?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Edie musingly. "It's a nice night for camping, I suppose. It's clear outside, anyway."

Mr. Roberts grunted. "What do you think that noise is, though?"

Edie's eyes seemed to move to the tent entrance of their own accord. She shivered. "I–I don't hear anything." What a lie. At that very moment, the distant crowd raised a massive cheer, louder than anything before. Edie wondered if Krum had caught the Golden Snitch at last.

The noise only continued to grow when, as Edie presumed, celebrating (or mourning) witches and wizards began to exit their grand stands and return to their tents. Mr. Roberts didn't much mind, though. Like his wife already in nightclothes and his son already tired from the interminable chess game (which Edie stealthily hid under a sleeping bag), Mr, Roberts had fallen quite soundly asleep. Even Edie was dropping off when–

BOOM!

What was unmistakably some sort of spell blasted the Roberts's tent straight off the ground and into the air, where it burst into flames. Mrs. Roberts screamed. Robert Roberts Junior began to cry and clutch at his mother. Mr. Roberts muttered vaguely about finding his gun. Edie, personally, screamed.

The first thing she thought of was the Ku Klux Klan, but this wasn't the world she knew. These wizards in front of them, dressed in billowing black robes and skull-like masks, who held their wands with the intent to attack– no doubt about it this time– had their own prejudices.

"Muggles!" the hooded figure in the front of the group spit in a drawling sort of voice. "Filthy _muggles_."

Mr. Roberts stood up bravely, holding one of his wife's cooking knives up as his family's only defense: "Hey! This is my property! You get off now and leave us alone!"

The wizard only laughed and, with a flick of his wrist, ("Confringo!") shattered the knife right out of Mr. Robert's hand. A shard hit Mrs. Roberts in the mouth– she touched her lip and looked at the blood on her hand incredulously. Robert Roberts Junior blubbered noisily in his mother's skirts.

"Aah, how very touching," said the drawling voice cruelly. "Defending your wife and children. I didn't realize Muggle had human feelings."

Mr. Roberts's face took on a confused quality. "Children?" he muttered. "I don't have children– only little Robert. That's all." He looked over at Edie and squinted, clearly still a little bemused from the memory charm. "She- she isn't my daughter…"

The masked face flicked over to look directly at Edie. "Oh?" he asked coldly. "Well, no matter. You're all still Muggles, and since you want to be so close to _our_ kind, you're going to get a little flying lesson. LEVICORPUS!"

Edie threw up immediately, but made it to about twenty feet off the ground before she completely blacked out.


	6. Homenum Revelio

**"Homenum Revelio"**

Edie woke up to screaming and smoke, flames, everywhere. It took a few moments before she realized that the surface she was lying on wasn't actually a surface at all.

"HELP!" she screamed, flailing around in mid-air. "Help, help, help, help, help." Her scream of fright turned into a miserable whisper through her tears, a sort of mantra, as if the simple act of talking through her fear could keep her from falling. She didn't open her eyes– as painful as it was to be conscious, she didn't want to black out again, and Edie knew that that was exactly what would happen if she saw how far up she was now. If it had been twenty feet before… she shuddered. "Help, help, help…"

Little Robert Roberts was floating limply a few feet away, unconscious. At least, Edie hoped he was only unconscious.

"You will let the Muggles down– safely!" an authoritative voice was booming from below. Help? Edie risked a quick glance downward.

It was the scene of a nightmare. Tents were trampled for yards and yards around, people ran in every direction, sparks were flying from wands, and yet the troupe of her tormenters marched onward. Facing them in a solid wall were about a dozen wizards Edie assumed to be in the Ministry. And there! Was that a glimpse of– no, she couldn't be sure from up so high. Probably a reflection from all the fire or a wand, the flash of red Edie thought she'd seen.

"YOU WILL CEASE THIS AT ONCE!" the voice boomed again as the marchers surged forward. The Ministry wizards stood with their wands at the ready, but none cast a spell– their constant glances upward made it clear they worried what would happen if the marching wizards were distracted and let the Muggles drop. When the marchers reached the barrier of Ministry officials, the wall broke and the men in masks passed through easily.

More screams, and Edie couldn't figure why– nothing new had happened to either her or any of the Robertses, and everything on the ground looked the same. As she flipped over onto her back and began to plummet downward, Edie saw what everyone was screaming about– a smoky skull hung in the sky, with a snake slithering out of the mouth where a tongue should have been.

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" twelve voices shouted at once. Edie was floating again, but it was a different quality, lighter, if that was possible. Gently, she drifted down to a harmless plop onto the ground, the rest of the Roberts family plopping down around her soon after.

"Wait here!" shouted one of the Ministry wizards as the rest ran off in the direction of the strange, sky-bourne apparition that had made the masked wizards scatter. He looked back with a look of horror on his face.

"_Edie?_" Percy asked incredulously, but she didn't have a chance to answer. In a second, he was gone with all the others and Edie was left with the rest of the Robertses, who were hugging and crying all at once. With a sudden longing for her own family, Edie stood up shakily. There was a forest a little ways away– she would go and hide in there. The Ministry officials would be back any minute to wipe all of their memories, and she wouldn't let that happen, not after everything she'd been through.

"Where are you going?" Mr. Roberts asked as Edie staggered off into the darkness. She didn't answer.

Edie didn't get very far before pain forced her to stop. A huge gash she hadn't noticed before in all the panic had been cut into her jeans, and her leg was dripping blood. She had barely made it into the forest when she knew she wouldn't be able to walk further without rest.

"Obliviate!" "Obliviate!" she heard out of the dark. "I don't have a daughter," and then, "Obliviate!"

Edie shuddered and clutched her head, as if that would help protect her memory when they found her. She ripped out her notebook, which, miraculously, hadn't been lost in the flight.

_Men in black robes and skull masks levitate the Roberts family and me (levicortus? levicorpse?) Skull and snake in sky made them drop us and run, Ministry wizards aught us all before impact. Robertses' memories wiped, hiding in forest, leg bleeding badly. Percy Weasley there, think he recognized me. I'm about to be found. I can hear footsteps and people talking. I wonder if Krum caught the snitch after all. I wonder if those splinched people ever got put together again._

"… check for people in the forest. You have your wand, Arthur?"

And, hastily: "I'll do it, dad. _Homenum revelio!_"

There was no flash of light, no brightly colored sparks. In the darkness, Edie couldn't see anything, but she felt, very clearly, a spell pass through her. She clutched her pen even more tightly. She would have all of this, even if she never believed it again.

"_Homenum Revelio"– felt something go IN me, lets them know where I am, without having to see me_

Edie heard a crackle of leaves as the caster of the spell stepped forward. Edie covered her mouth in horror.

"Come on, what was it Perce?" another voice asked.

Percy Weasley stood a few feet from Edie's hiding place, his face… unreadable. He was clearly torn between something, and Edie didn't have to search far to find out what it was. Duty to his Ministry, and desire to help out… some girl he only met once? There was no question what he'd pick. Edie saw a vision of Mr. Crouch and "Weatherby." She covered her face with her hands and pushed her notebook into her pocket again. She'd probably think it was some wacky dream she'd had and managed to remember well enough to write down. Maybe she'd write it out as a story for her Creative Writing class, an ordinary girl caught up in powers beyond her control. She figured she could flesh it out to make the story more dramatic, more worthy of _literature_. Percy could turn her in because of jealousy– he found the address George had written down in her sock. Or maybe blackmail– he'd lose his job if he lied. Or maybe the heroine would stand up at this point in the story and give herself away, to save his reputation. Edie still had that option, after all. Percy's face looked so horribly resolute. He turned around.

"Nobody," he said clearly. "She must've gotten away."


	7. SideAlong Apparition

A/N: Wow! Thank you so much for everyone who's read this and either reviewed, alerted, or favorited (or just read!). I'm really kind of shocked. :) Anyway, thanks so much, again, and read on! 

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

**Side-Along Apparition**

Edie sat in the dark forest for what might have been minutes or might have been hours. All she knew was that, eventually, she heard feet crushing leaves and they ran to where she waited, resting her leg.

"_Homenum Revelio_." She felt the strange sensation again, but didn't have time to think about it as she was subsequently blinded by a bright light. "_Lumos_."

Edie looked up, then away, then straight down into her lap. What was she supposed to say? Percy Weasley looked positively livid, and she still had no real idea why he had chosen to save her memory in the first place.

"So?" he asked, arms crossed. "_What_ were you _thinking_? Those were Death Eaters torturing you tonight, and none of them were caught! They could have been out here. They could've gotten you again and killed you! _Why_ didn't you stay with the Robertses? If you had let the Ministry obliviate–"

Edie covered her ears at the word.

"Edie," said Percy sternly. "The Ministry has mandated that Muggles aren't supposed to know about the wizarding world. According to the International Statute of Secrecy–"

"I don't _care_ about your International Statute of Secrecy!" Edie cried desperately. "I don't care about your Ministry!" Percy looked affronted. Edie sighed and stood up, leaning against the tree to support her injured leg.

"Look," she said quietly. "You've grown up with all of this. You- you- you take it for granted, having magic. I don't have any of that. In my world, we can't fly on broomsticks or draw moving pictures or travel from here to there in a second. We _Muggles_ grow up thinking magic is a joke or a fantasy. It's like… it's like a dream finding out it's real. A wonderful dream that you don't have to wake up from."

Percy shook his head. "But–"

"No!" Edie pleaded. "Please, please, don't say anything. I know you want me to let you wipe my memory, and I know I can't stop you, but please don't. If you do… it really will only have been a dream after all."

"But you won't remember it was a dream!" Percy moaned. "It'll be like none of this ever happened– you'll never know the difference!"

Edie looked at the red bloodstain that had dripped down to her socks. She had a fleeting vision of her mother holding up the socks in front of the washing machine as she herself watched on, completely oblivious as to what had stained them so badly. She shook her head.

"I think," she whispered. "That would be worse."

Percy clapped his hand to his forehead and sighed, clearly exasperated. "Muggles aren't supposed to know about magic," he muttered weakly. "It's the law! If I don't report you, I'll be a criminal! Do you realize I could have lost my job by doing what I did? Still could?"

"Then why did you?" Edie asked steadily. "Why'd you lie in the first place?"

Percy crossed his arms again and looked at Edie almost coldly, as though he might find what it was in her that had possessed him to break the precious rules for once.

"I don't know," he finally decided. "But I promise you it will not happen again. Come on."

He grabbed Edie's arm, and she didn't try and resist. She wished she had, though, in a moment, when, after hearing a noise like a sharp clap, she seemed to be suffocating in a great black tunnel. She exited coughing, gasping for breath.

"What was that?" she choked out.

"Apparition. Side-along apparition, actually," Percy replied.

Edie nodded, and let out one last feeble cough. Then, something hit her. Maybe it was the suffocating feeling of Apparition, or the darkness, or the renewed pain in her leg, but Edie was reminded of those wizards who had, as Percy put it, tortured her.

"What are Death Eaters?" she asked.

Percy winced. He clearly didn't think this was the proper time to discuss that topic, but simply sighed and answered: "They're dark wizards," he explained. "Ones who have gone bad."

"But why did they only try and hurt me and the Robertses?"

Percy very carefully didn't look at Edie while he spoke. "There are some wizards," he said. "Not all, not even close to a majority, but some, who believe that Muggles are… less _human_ than wizards are. They think that wizards should use their power to rule over them."

Edie was horrified, but Percy wasn't done.

"That symbol, up in the sky, was the sign of their leader. He's gone now, but his followers are still around. They called themselves Death Eaters."

Edie looked up at the sky in spite of herself, as if she expected that skull and snake to be floating above them– above Stoatshead Hill, where they now stood.

"If their leader is gone now, why was his symbol up in the sky? And why did they seem scared of it? If it meant their leader was around, why did they run away when it went up? Do you know who sent it up there? Was it _him_? Isn't he dead?" Her voice was growing higher and more panicked with every question.

Percy didn't have an answer. "I don't know that either."

They both looked up at the sky. The lights from the village hardly interfered with the view of the stars at all– it was beautiful, so peaceful-looking. Edie could hardly imagine that just a few hours before she'd been thrashing about in that same sky. It hadn't looked so peaceful then.

Edie felt a sudden chill on her arm. Percy had removed his hand.

"I'm going to have to alter your family's memory of today, can't have them asking dangerous questions." He looked at Edie's apprehensive face. "It _has_ to be done!" She nodded.

"And you have to promise me something," he continued. "Promise that you won't ever try to find or contact anyone in the wizarding world ever again, all right?"

Edie didn't answer right away. She had wanted to write Fred and George to let them know she'd gotten away, and visit the Lovegood family's house now that she knew they were wizards and witches too. But then, Percy had let her keep her memory. She'd be a horrible, horrible person to endanger him keeping his job.

"Yes," she said unhappily. "I promise."

Percy looked a little more relieved– not much, of course, but his shoulders might have been less tense and his face a tiny bit less worried. He nodded vigorously.

"Good, good," he said, still nodding as they began to descent to the village. "If you don't… I don't see how the Ministry can– no, it'll be fine. No one will ever have to know." He seemed to be trying to convince himself that this one time breaking the rules would be of little consequence.

"I can write to you, though, can't I?" Edie probed.

He looked shocked. "No! No, no, certainly not!" Percy said, his face flushing red. Edie nodded, blushing too.

"For _your_ safety, of course," he added quickly. "If the Ministry intercepted one of my letters, then they'd be out here to wipe your memory in a second!"

Edie frowned. "And _you'd_ lose your job."

"Well, there is that," said Percy tersely. He looked back at Edie, who was hanging back, shuffling her feet. "But… I really do want you to– I mean, if it's so important that you keep your… I mean, I can _see_ how important it is to you, your memory," he finally managed to choke out.

Edie smiled weakly. "Thanks," she said. "I never said thanks, for lying back there, you know, in the forest."

Percy flinched a little at the word "lying," but didn't protest. With the air of one who couldn't believe what he was saying: "You're… you're welcome," Percy replied. He looked extremely pained, teetering on the edge of a thought or an action.

"I don't break rules," he said quickly. "I've never broken rules. There are _reasons_ they exist, you know. But something comes over me whenever–"

They had arrived outside of Edie's house. Mrs. Filbert was at the door in an instance, gaping.

"Edie!" she cried. "Oh, Edie– you're all right! I was so worried, we were all so worried! We were about to call the police, but you're okay, you're okay! And who– who is that with you?"

"I'm Percy Weasley, ma'am. I found your daughter. She was injured. She's all right now, though. There's no need to worry."

"Oh, thank you!" Mrs. Filbert said, running out to hug her daughter and shake Percy's hand. "You have no idea­ how– oh, but it's all right now. Jim, kids, come outside! Edie's all right!"

The Filbert family appeared in the door, Mr. Filbert looking haggard and Edie's siblings looking afraid. Percy took a step forward to shield Edie and, wearily, shouted "Obliviate!" The Filberts looked around, confused as to why they were standing around outside. Mrs. Filbert began to shuffle them all back inside the house.

Edie looked up at Percy, confused too. For a moment he had the fleeting panic that his memory charm had been too strong and gotten her too.

"If you were going to erase their memories anyway," Edie asked, and Percy breathed a sigh of relief. "Why did you tell that story to my mother?"

Percy shrugged. "I have a mother," he said lamely. "I wouldn't want her to worry any more than she had to… even if she wouldn't recall worrying about anything at all afterward."

Edie smiled and shook her head. "Percy," she probed. "Before my mum came out, you were saying–"

He cut her off, clearly having lost whatever resolution he'd mustered before. "I have to get back to the World Cup. Mr. Crouch is going to be wondering where I've gotten to, and I don't want to give him any excuse to be suspicious. I expect you want the same?"

Edie nodded, horribly disappointed. The pomposity was back, when just a minute ago it had looked like Percy was about to let his guard down.

"He depends on me quite a bit, you know," Percy continued. "Quite a bit. We'll have a great deal of work to do before we're done tonight– keeping the press satisfied without leaking too much information, for example."

"I'm sure you'll be adequate to the task," Edie said.

"It was nice to see you again, Edie Filbert," Percy said solemnly.

"Very nice," Edie replied. She stuck out a hand– at least they could shake hands, if Percy wasn't going to tell her what was really on his mind, what "came over him whenever–" He didn't take her hand. He raised his wand and, with a crack, disappeared.


	8. What The Quibbler Said

**What The Quibbler Said**

Edie went back to school, and did her homework, and never did write back to the Weasleys after all (though she still kept their address in her bloody sock, in the back of her bureau). She didn't, however, forget for one minute what had happened that day at the World Cup, and she saw (or thought she saw) the effects of magic everywhere. One day toward the end of that August, she was even sure she heard the name "Krum" whispered in an adjacent aisle of the grocery store. When she darted around to see who it was, however, Edie only found an older man and a girl with long blonde hair poring over a package of pasta. As the year went on, however, Edie learned how to block it out and satisfy herself just with _knowing_. Somehow, it wasn't quite as satisfying as she had believed it would be.

The New Year came, and January went by in a cold sort of blur. All of Edie's classmates were looking forward eagerly to Valentine's Day, but the growing festive atmosphere only managed to depress her. She made a valiant effort at attending the school dance, but decided to leave early after running off near tears when some boy from her history class with glasses and red hair asked her to dance.

_He hasn't written for months!_ she thought miserably as she walked down the street. _Percy Weasley doesn't care about me and I'd be much better off just forgetting all about him._

Part of Edie felt affronted and tried to fight back. _Then why did he lie, risk his job? Why would someone who doesn't care about you go to some much trouble to protect you? And maybe not writing really is just what he said it was– in case a letter got intercepted and gave you away. Maybe_– but Edie's thoughts were interrupted by a strange noise coming from up the road, a dull, persistent thumping rhythm. Edie peered up the dark street– it led up a steep hill the top of which she had never visited. She realized that she should have learned her lesson about meddling in the affairs of the people in this town, but something drew her forward into the climb. The idea of experiencing magic again was overwhelming and incredibly compelling.

When she reached the top of the hill, she figured she knew exactly where she was.

It was a great stone house, shaped roughly like a giant chess castle, with scraggly hedges and winding plants all around. Three signs were placed along the path up to the entrance, and, which Edie couldn't quite make them out in the dark, she was sure there was something about "Editor" and "Quibbler" and "dirigible plums." She'd never seen a house like it. It had to be the Lovegoods's.

Edie's father, a surveyor, had spent great stretches of time complaining to Mrs. Filbert about the trouble he had with the Lovegood family and their refusal to keep their structure up to code. And yet, whenever Edie asked him what exactly was wrong with the house, he couldn't seem to string together a coherent answer. Edie only realized then that the Lovegoods could have put a spell on him– not a memory charm exactly, she thought, but just something to confuse Mr. Filbert if ever the topic arose. Edie was sure that such a spell was possible.

Edie followed the thumping noise around to the back of the house where, crouching behind a hedge, she watched an older man in long flowing robes and a white beard clapping his hands happily.

"… never had these many order before– amazing! Didn't think so many people would be interested in such sordid affairs, but, change is good!"

It was the man from the grocery store. Edie smiled vaguely, thinking that the blonde girl she had seen must have been the real Luna Lovegood. This man, then, was her father. What had that man said his name was at the World Cup? Xeno? Edie had no idea what that could stand for.

Mr. Lovegood bent over and fiddled with a dial on the machine that looked to be making the strange noises. Standing up, he held a glossy magazine in the air, the cover bearing a picture of a black-haired bespectacled boy with a prominent scar on his forehead. She gaped. It was the boy she had seen on Stoatshead Hill with the Weasley family! But why would he be on the cover of a magazine?

Something inside the house made a noise like an explosion, and both Edie and Mr. Lovegood started.

"Food's ready!" Mr. Lovegood muttered happily, and shuffled off inside. Edie, after looking around quickly to ensure that no one was watching, darted over to the magical printing machine and grabbed the first magazine it popped out.

"_The Quibbler_," she murmured. "Editor-in-Chief: Xenophilius Lovegood."

Edie ran the rest of the way home.

It was with great excitement that Edie locked herself in her room and read the article about the boy with the scar (Harry Potter, she learned, was famous in the magical world for the defeat of someone named Lord Voldemort). It was with a sense of wanting to throw up that she finished reading. She closed the magazine and placed it face-down on her dresser. She didn't want that moving picture of Harry Potter to be facing her while she reviewed what she'd learned– it felt too much like she was being watched.

Edie really knew very little about magical Britain in general, so there was no way she could have known that _The_ _Quibbler_ was not the most respected news source for witches and wizards (or that the nargles and crumple-horned snorcacks also written about didn't exist). She believed everything that Harry Potter revealed in his interview, and it made her absolutely sick.

"_I saw Voldemort return!_" Harry said in the article. "_He's back, and he's gathering his Death Eaters too. If we don't act fast, Muggles and muggleborns are going to be in mortal danger._"

Death Eaters…those hooded wizards who had tormented the Roberts family and herself at the World Cup. And their leader was _back_? How could someone come back from the _dead_? Fred and George had told her about ghosts, the Hogwarts House ghosts at least, in case she had been asked, but the interview made it clear that this Voldemort had not returned as a ghost. It was enough to make Edie's head spin.

Edie knew she had to do something, had to find out more. She pulled out a pen and paper and broke her promise to Percy.

To: Percy Weasley 

_The Burrow_

_Ottery St. Catchpole_

_Dear Percy,_

_I know I wasn't supposed to write to you, but I had to do something. I have a copy of The Quibbler, and it says that the Death Eaters' leader is alive again. I don't know what to do– is there anything I can do to keep my family safe if they find us again?_

_I'm sorry,_

_Edie Filbert_

Two days later, her letter came back, with a great red "RETURN TO SENDER" and a little note from a Molly Weasley squeezed on the back of the envelope.

_Percy Weasley no longer lives here. Please try the Ministry. I apologize for the inconvenience._

The Ministry! That would complete defeat the purpose– she was supposed to keep the Ministry from finding _out_ she was writing him. In any case, she had no idea where the Ministry of Magic was located. There's no way she could get a letter there in the first place.

There was only one other person she could think to write. She'd never met him, of course, and he'd probably be much too busy to read some prying Muggle girl's letter anyway (if it even got to him), but from what Fred and George had told her… she'd give it a shot. She began to write, as neatly as she could (Edie had notoriously bad penmanship).

_To: Professor Albus Dumbledore_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Scotland_


	9. Professor Albus Dumbledore

**Professor Albus Dumbledore**

_To: Professor Albus Dumbledore_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Scotland_

_Dear Professor Dumbledore_,

You don't know me, but my name is Edie Filbert. I am a Muggle, and I live in Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon. I am writing because of what I recently read in an issue of The Quibbler, about the return of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Last summer, I pretended to be a witch and took a Portkey from the Black Forest to the Quidditch World Cup. That night, I and three other Muggles on the site were attacked by Death Eaters. I managed to escape and return home without my memory being erased. I found the Lovegoods's house on accident on Valentine's Day and took a copy of The Quibbler to learn more about the wizarding world.

_I know that if I had just allowed myself to have my memory wiped, I wouldn't know anything about Death Eaters and such, but as it is, I'm very worried for myself and my family. I know that there are a number of witches and wizards in Ottery St. Catchpole, and so I fear that it could be a target for attack._

_I know that I'll probably have my memory erased soon if this letter gets to you, but I don't care anymore if writing means that I've brought my worries for Muggles in my community to your attention. I just hoped that there was something that could be done to prevent something happening like what happened to me and the Roberts family at the World Cup._

_Thank you for your time,_

_Edie Filbert_

Edie licked the envelope, sealed it, and sent it away with the postman the next morning. She couldn't imagine how her vague address could possibly get her letter to Hogwarts, but, since she couldn't reach Percy, she didn't know what other options she had. In the next days, she wrote frantically in her notebook and carried it with her everywhere, preparing for the imminent time when she would no longer remember any of this had happened.

CRACK!

Edie was hitting the snooze button on her alarm clock for the third or fourth time when another, sharper noise woke her up for good. She almost screamed. In the middle of her room, wearing robes of dark blue flecked with moving silver stars and moons, stood a tall wizard with a crooked nose and a long silver beard. His eyes smiled down at her kindly from behind gold-rimmed eyeglasses.

"I apologize for having startled you," he said. "But I wanted to get to you before you were amongst your family or friends. I thought I might already have been too late– I first ended up quite accidentally in the house of your next-door neighbor, I believe, a Regina Sloan."

"You- you're here for my memory, aren't you?" Edie asked, drawing her covers around her shoulders protectively as she sat up.

The man nodded pensively. "I suppose you could say that. Perhaps more accurately, I am here for your memor_ies_. I am here to find out how a young Muggle girl could possibly have done all the things she claimed to have done in this letter." From a fold of his robe, the wizard pulled out Edie's envelope.

"Then you– you are– you're Professor Albus Dumbledore?" she asked, incredulous.

"Yes, that would be me," he said placidly, sitting down at Edie's desk. "As to your leter– if it wasn't in violation of the International Statute of Secrecy, your adventures would be quite an impressive feat."

Edie gave a small smile. There was something about this wizard that disarmed her. He seemed… utterly trustworthy.

"Of course, I do not blame you at all for trying to keep your memories. They sanctity of the mind is… quite integral to a person's identity, I would say. To invade a person's mind, to be able to alter what they perceive to be reality, is a great power. Sometimes, I think, too great."

Edie frowned. This strange man, this Albus Dumbledore, seemed to be saying he didn't believe in memory charms.

"Now, of course, I do not at all doubt what you wrote– Muggles, I've always thought, have an incredible ingenuity that can outperform even the best-cast spells. Your letter, however, is written in a way that appears to be shielding someone… someone helped you. Am I right?"

Edie nodded. She didn't feel she could lie so blatantly to this wizard. She didn't want to, anyway, after all the kind things he'd said. "I met a Fred and George Weasley at the World Cup. They told me all about Hogwarts and Quidditch and things, so I could pretend to be a witch."

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, the Weasley twins would be the likely candidates," he said. "I dare say they'd consider it quite a great practical joke."

Edie nodded. "They did! They helped me so much– told me everything I needed to know." She froze. "They won't get in trouble for this, will they? You won't report them?"

Dumbledore drummed his fingers on the desk. "Certainly not," he said. "But I do have one concern."

"Sure," said Edie, eager to help in her relief.

"After you were freed from the Death Eaters, how did you avoid having your memory obliviated?"

Edie looked directly at Dumbledore and steeled herself to lie. "That thing, that skull, up in the sky– all the Ministry wizards who'd saved us ran off to find who's put it up there. They left us alone for a few minutes, and I ran really deep into the forest to hide. I took a Portkey home again the next morning– nobody was thinking of those posters they'd put up of me after that. Someone'd figured it out at the World Cup, you see, and they had drawn my face and told everyone to look out for a Muggle intruder."

Professor Albus Dumbledore smiled and nodded. Edie had the sudden plummeting feeling that he knew she was omitting some crucial detail. Even so, he didn't let on and moved to a different subject.

"You were quite right in suggesting that your village might be a target, considering the number of magical families that reside here," he said with a nod. Edie would have smiled, but his comment brought up the topic of the Death Eaters again, and their leader having returned.

"I have taken the liberty of placing protective spells over all the Muggle houses in the village, if you don't mind," he continued. "They should serve you well. Only a very, very powerful wizard could break through these defenses."

Edie gaped. "Really?" she asked, hoping beyond hope the answer was yes. "I'd wished it was possible to do something! Oh, thank you so much!" Professor Dumbledore smiled down at her beaming face. Then, suddenly, it fell.

"Now that we're safe, or, as safe as we can be…" Edie's face was a mask of misery. "Does it hurt, to erase your memory? I guess I won't remember if it does. And– and– is it going to affect _other_ parts of my memory, like my schoolwork? I'm already not very good at all at algebra. If I do any worse, they're going to throw me out of the Honors class…"

"No, don't answer. It doesn't matter," she said unhappily. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself in a tight hug. "Please­– just do it now, quick, before I change my mind."

Dumbledore frowned, but didn't move to touch his wand, which lay, harmless, in his lap. Edie opened one eye.

"Aren't you going to erase my memory?"

"Why? Do you want me too?"

Edie squinted, utterly confused. "Of course not!" she exclaimed. "But don't you have to? What about the International Statute of Security, or secrecy, or whatever it is? Doesn't that say–"

Dumbledore made a motion as though to brush the thought away. "There are some things more important than adhering strictly to proper procedure," he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "Algebra, perhaps."

When Mrs. Filbert opened Edie's bedroom door to see if her daughter had gotten up yet, Dumbledore was gone. Edie sat like a statue on her bed, an incredulous look on her face.

"Mum," she whispered finally. "I don't feel very well… do you think I could stay home from school today?"

As Edie lay back down on her bed to think through what had just happened, she felt like the luckiest girl in the world. She could remember everything, the Death Eaters couldn't get her again, she could remember everything, she had met one of the most famous wizards of all time and spoken to him about magic of all things, and she could remember everything. She couldn't know, as Dumbledore had chosen not to worry her with the fact that Hogwarts and Hogwarts-bound mail was no longer solely under his control, that miles and miles away, right at that moment, a large barn owl was carrying a letter about her to the Minister of Magic in London.

To: Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic 

_London_

_Dear Cornelius,_

_It's come to my attention that the little mishap at the World Cup has not yet been fully cleared up. According to a letter addressed to Albus, there is currently a Muggle girl living in Ottery St. Catchpole with knowledge of the wizarding world. I believe it would be wise to dispatch someone to take care of this teensy problem immediately._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Dolores Jane Umbridge_

_Hogwarts High Inquisitor_


	10. Unhinged

Unhinged 

The first thing that tipped Edie off was how odd her friend Gina was acting at school a short time later, mixing up dates and names– and this in history, her favorite subject. When she accompanied her best friend to the bathroom to wash up after Physical Education, Edie got a good look at Gina's face in the mirror.

"What's wrong?" Gina asked vaguely as Edie recoiled. Gina's eyes were glazed over and blank, her jaw slack, even when she spoke. There was no mistaking it– someone had wiped Gina's memory, but who, and, perhaps more of a conundrum, _why_?

Edie thought about it as she walked home after classes. Regina Sloan was average to the nth degree: smart but not brilliant, pretty but not beautiful, somewhat outgoing, somewhat athletic. She was Edie's boring but highly reliable friend and next-door neighbor. She was­– Edie's head began to spin. Gina was her _next-door neighbor_.

Hadn't Dumbledore said he first Apparated into a neighbor's house? He had even mentioned her name! Edie, too concerned about keeping her memory intact to think of much else, hadn't paid any heed to the strange occurrence. Magic couldn't do everything, evidently. It looked like the plans of even one of the most famous wizards in the world could be delayed by bad penmanship.

_Which means_, Edie though, _that whoever erased Gina's memory will try again at my house, once they figure they got the wrong girl._ For all Edie knew, a Ministry witch or wizard could be waiting at her house right then.

Edie stood at the foot of her house's driveway, not knowing what to do. Everything looked in order, but she couldn't possibly expect there to be a flashing neon sign on the roof, proclaiming a Ministry of Magic official lying in wait inside. In her mind, Edie had two choices: One, run. Get as far away as possible as soon as possible. That plan didn't seem practical at all. There might be some magic trip-wire all around the house which would reveal her presence even if she slipped in the back way to try to get some money out of her room. Suddenly, she realized what an idiot she was being, and just how little she knew about this world she was messing with. It would have to be plan two– go inside and face the music. It had been a nice run, and would make a nice entry in her journal. Perhaps remember the whole series of events as a dream would be best after all. The stress and all the anxiety would be gone. That was a plus. And Edie would no longer see "magic" in every unusual even in the village.

Then again, that exciting feeling that there were bigger things than university applications going on in the world would be gone, too.

Edie pulled out her key and unlocked the door.

"It's Edie! I'm home!" Edie called. Nobody answered. Nothing particularly unusual in that– her dad would be working, her mum volunteering at the retirement center as she did every few days, her younger brother and sister at daycare, her older sister at the boutique where she worked part-time. Edie was used to coming home to an empty house occasionally. What was strange was the note she found on the kitchen table.

_Edie,_

_Just wanted to leave this note in case you left before we all came back. I got the message from your school today– congratulations! That scholarship program sounds like a perfect fit for your interests. Hope you have a lovely time in London (we'll all miss you). See you in a week!_

_Mum_

Edie turned the letter over to see if there was a postscript of some sort, something to tell her this was all a practical joke. She hadn't applied for any scholarship program, and she definitely had _no_ plans or intentions to go to London for a week. Unless–

CRACK!

Edie had grown accustomed to that sharp, loud sound and recognized it immediately as the sound that comes from Apparition. The only question was as to whom it was this time.

"It's all right– I've taken care of everything. I fabricated that message from your school, but I cross-checked: Your school thinks you're going to a scholarship program in London, too. The Ministry is slated to send someone to wipe your memory tonight, so we have a few hours. Your younger sister will be back from her day care by four, correct? All right, then, good. I found her alone when they were playing outside and turned a rock into a little golden snitch and her sand shovel into a broomstick, then back again. She'll be babbling about magic and Quidditch-related items all day, so the Ministry will never know they wiped the wrong Filbert. You need to pack quickly. I've gotten you a room at the Leaky Cauldron for a week– it's the last thing anyone will ever expect."

Percy finally stopped talking, only to find Edie looking as if she hadn't heard a word he'd said. "Edie? Are you all right?"

Edie took a step back, shaking her head.

"All right?" she squeaked. "_All right?_ Are you _kidding_ me? You can't… you just can't… you just can't keep messing with my _life_ anymore!"

Percy looked confused. "I don't understand. I thought you _wanted_ to remember!"

"Of course I do!" Edie cried. "But what _I_ don't understand is why _you_ want to go to such lengths to help me remember!" She was beyond confused and bewilderment now– she was livid.

"Nothing exciting ever happened to me until I took that Portkey, Percy, so when you lied about me being in the woods that night, I was very grateful that I still had my memory. I didn't quite understand why you'd done that, especially after what your brothers told me about you, but I was grateful and figured you just felt the same thing I did. But it was just chemistry. You don't know anything about me, and I don't know you either. Just chemistry doesn't make people create these elaborate schemes and plans of escape for girls they don't even know! So _please_, can you tell me what in the world you're doing this for?"

Edie was shouting by the end of her tirade, her face hot and flushed with anger. Percy looked a little shocked.

"You talked to my brothers?" he asked.

"_WHAT?_" Edie shouted.

"You said my brothers told you about me, that I was a Ministry-loving git, likely. You know them– have you written them since? How are they? Are they all right at Hogwarts, considering what's just…" he trailed off, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

Edie nodded. "I met Fred and George at the World Cup. They told me all about Hogwarts, and Quidditch, so I could answer people's questions. I haven't talked to them since, though. I don't know how they are."

Percy's face fell.

"Do you think something's happened to them?" Edie asked, concerned.

"No, no, of course not," he said, shaking his head. "It's just… I'm not on speaking terms with my family anymore. I don't really have any way of getting news about how they are… I tried to write my youngest brother a letter, but I know I came off like a prat. I don't blame him for not writing me back."

Edie felt like it probably wasn't any of her business, but asked: "What happened? Why aren't you talking?"

Percy shook his head. "Something stupid. It doesn't even matter anymore. I was… a wreck after I lied about you being there at the World Cup. You're absolutely right– it was just chemistry, nothing else. I beat myself up over that after, that I'd risked my job for 'just chemistry.'"

Edie nodded. Hadn't she beaten herself up too for dwelling on the whole Quidditch Cup event for so long?

"So I became obsessed with my work– absolutely obsessed. And still, I didn't even realize that my boss was under the Imperius–" Percy noted Edie's confused face. "Well, he wasn't my boss. Anyway, I had to go through an inquiry and everything looked horrible. I thought I was going to lose my job, but I got promoted, and my dad said it was because they wanted a spy in our house… I was still afraid, and defensive, and then… everything just blew out of proportion. I was so eager to cover up my mistake and prove I really was loyal to the Ministry that now I'm not talking to my family and I–" Edie watched as Percy's face contorted in a sort of spasm of grief and misery.

"I was _there_!" he shouted. "Can you imagine? I was _there_ when they tried to arrest Dumbledore– Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard in the world– and I was there. I _helped_ them try to do it!"

The words rang out in the empty house and Edie, who had met Albus Dumbledore, was just as horrified as Percy seemed.

"No," she said.

"Yes!" he replied. "You wanted to know why I'm making these elaborate plans to keep _you_ safe? That's why! I tried to have Albus Dumbledore arrested, and this is the only thing I can do that might actually help someone for a change!"

Edie didn't know what to say. She had never seen anyone so upset, so close to tearing their hair out. She figured that this had to be the perfect depiction of the word "unhinged." Percy Weasley was feeling guilty and regretful and could only think of one thing to do that wouldn't make him a prat– get her out of danger.

Edie sighed and figured she might just be crazy herself. She looked up and crossed her arms. "What's in London?" she asked.

Percy breathed a sigh of relief. "It's called the Leaky Cauldron."


	11. The Leaky Cauldron

A/N: According to "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," an ashwinder is a snake born out of magical fires which lays fiery hot eggs (valued as potion ingredients). You'll need this information soon. :) **The Leaky Cauldron**

"You look a little peaky, dear," said Edie's mirror when she woke up the next morning. "Sure you're not a bit under the weather?"

Edie jumped up out of bed energetically, as if to prove that she felt perfectly fine. "Not at all!" she said happily, running to look out the window on the other side of her rented room. From the window, she had a perfect view of Diagon Alley, which seemed to be a sort of hub for magical shopping. Hoping that, like at the World Cup, wizard children wore Muggle clothing often. She didn't want to draw any attention to herself in that place.

Edie ate breakfast at the pub, and waited until she saw a small knot young women get up and head out into the little courtyard that led to Diagon Alley. Edie got up soon after and watched one of the witches tap a wall of bricks in a particular pattern. Immediately, the bricks began to shift into a tall archway. Edie had to work very hard not to look surprised.

"… Dumbledore… but Umbridge, and she can't get in… glad to get away for once… never thought I'd say that about Hogwarts…"

The young women were talking, and as she followed them through the archway, Edie realized that they were probably all her age or a year older– she guessed that it was the Easter holidays for Hogwarts students. That might make for more questions, but at least she wouldn't look so out of place as the only school-age girl in the vicinity.

Percy, at work at the Ministry now, had told Edie a bit about Diagon Alley, but once she got there, Edie didn't know where to go first. She would have liked to look around in the store called "Ollivanders" (which claimed to have made wands since 382 B.C.– Edie didn't quite believe that), but she knew absolutely nothing about wands, and figured that waving one with no effect would have been the foolproof way to prove she was not a witch after all.

The next store proclaimed itself "Quality Quidditch Supplies." Edie supposed she could go in there and make a pretense at knowing a little bit about Quidditch, but it looked crowded with students, and she couldn't very well pretend to _them_ that she was a classmate.

Edie moved on, and found her natural home– a book store. She hurried into "Flourish and Blotts" and quickly found herself a corner where she could sit and pore over books, the likes of which she had never seen. There was a colorful copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_, _A Biography of Merlin_ which looked to have a solid gold cover, and, what interested Edie most, a book called _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, by a Newt Scamander. She opened the cover, and began to read, more amazed with every page. Unicorns, werewolves, and something called a hippogriff were all covered, with highly detailed drawings that romped through the pages like it was some kind of magical paper enclosure. Edie was certain for a moment that an aggressive-looking manticore would charge right out of the book and maul her.

"Oh! Oh! Can anyone in here spare a hand?" someone was asking, running in through the entrance. Edie peered out from behind a bookshelf and saw a harassed-looking witch with thick black glasses. "It's escaped! It's escaped!"

Edie took a step forward, curious, but immediately wished she hadn't when the witch turned to her, a relieved look spreading across your face.

"Know a bit about magical creatures, do you?" she asked excitedly, glancing at the book Edie was holding. "Come on, then!" Before Edie could protest, the witch had grabbed her arm and dragged her across the street into a cramped store with quite a potent smell. Edie had barely glimpsed the sign outside– "Magical Menagerie."

"All right," said the witch quickly. "We just got an ashwinder in stock yesterday, but it's gotten out of its crate and I think it's going to lay its eggs! Look in all the dark places you can find– we need to find those eggs before the burn to whole store down!"

Edie nodded and, with the witch, got on her hands and knees to search the store. She had absolutely no idea what an ashwinder was, but evidentally, it was some type of reptile (or bird, she supposed) that's eggs were… made of fire? She shook her head and continued to search the store, stifling the occasional gasp or shudder as she saw the magical creatures the store was crowded with. Her hand began to itch a little when a purple toad in a cage she passed spit a thick, oozing sort of saliva on her, but she shook it off and continued to look for the elusive ashwinder. Edie had no desire to be caught in a fire either.

An acrid smell of something burning reached Edie's nose as she passed a tank filled with tarantula-sized spiders. Laying her head down on the ground to see under the massive tank, Edie glimpsed three glowing spheres and something coiled and gray. She quickly drew back, afraid of being bitten.

"It's here! It's here!" she cried. The witch ran over in a flash and bent down under the tank. "_Aguamenti!_" she cried, and a stream of water flew out of her wand. Edie heard a hissing sound, which might have been the eggs sputtering out or might have been the snake voicing its disapproval. It slithered out lazily and flicked its tongue out at Edie.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_" the witch said happily and floated the snake back into an empty tank. "No more wooden crates for that one!" she said pleasantly to Edie. Edie gave her a nervous smile.

When the ashwinder was secured, the bespectacled witch turned back to Edie. "Thank you so much," she said gratefully. "That was a nightmare– the whole store burnt down! I kept having visions of– oh, it doesn't matter. I'm sending that ashwinder back where it came from, straightaway."

Edie nodded. "Er- no problem," she replied. Maybe she was imagining it, but her left hand felt like it was swelling up.

"Sorry I took you out of Flourish and Blotts," said the witch pleasantly. Suddenly, her face lit up. "Oh! I should pay you, shouldn't I?" she asked.

"Oh, really– it's not a big deal… I–" Edie protested, by the witch waved her argument away and pulled three large gold coins out of a pouch around her waist.

"Here's three galleons," the woman said brightly. "You could get a job here in the summer if you liked, I expect," she added. Edie nodded, smiled, and headed out the door.

"Thanks," she said.

"Oh no, thank _you_."

Edie grinned and looked down at the gold coins in her hand, wondering what she'd use them to buy now that she had some wizard money. She had decided that she was going to save at least one forever when her hand began to throb and hurt again. Stuffing her newly earned gold into a pocket, she held up her hand to the bright sunlight. Little red dots seemed to be growing under her skin, and, with the feeling of thousands of pins forcing their way out of her body, burst forth in a profusion of pulsing red and purple boils all over her body.

"Eugh!" shrieked a woman looking in a store window nearby.

Edie, growing lightheaded, ran to look at her reflection in the glass. Every inch of her body was covered with throbbing pustules, some of them oozing a greenish pus. Edie's head began to grow hotter and hotter until she thought she couldn't take it anymore. The last thing she remembered before she blacked out was the disgusted woman bending over her and calling: "Someone owl St. Mungo's!"


	12. St Mungo's Hospital

**St. Mungo's Hospital**

Edie woke up to find herself lying in what looked like any Muggle hospital, except for the fact that the woman leaning over her didn't look like any doctor she'd ever seen in her life. She wore brilliant lime green robes and was running her wand along the length of Edie's body. The lights were dimmed, and the doctor was whispering to someone sitting beside the bed. Edie tried to turn her head, but it was too much effort. She closed her eyes again and just listened.

"…found her in Diagon Alley, outside the Magical Menagerie…" the doctor was saying quietly. "Which makes sense, since scrofungulus is caught from toad secretions. What I don't understand is why she didn't already have the proper antibodies. Most young people are immune from having been exposed to magical creatures all their lives. Perhaps, do you know, is she a muggleborn?"

The voice beside her bed replied: "Yes, yes, she is Muggle born."

"Well, that makes a little more sense then," said the witch. "Although, you'd think, after nearly seven years at Hogwarts… oh well. I'll call Smethwyck. He's out talking to Dilys's painting in the lobby. Nightmare, that. Minister;s just announced he's changed his policy– said Dumbledore and Potter were right all along after all." And the doctor bustled out.

Edie opened her eyes again and tried to move her neck. It was impossible. She tried to open her mouth and speak– nothing. She felt as though she'd been paralyzed.

"You have a full-body bind on you," said the voice beside her bed. "It should wear off soon. You had an awful twitch when you came in– none of the healers could treat you with you thrashing about like that, she they had to petrify you. It won't last."

Edie breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, she had seen herself like this for life… Percy going back to Ottery St. Catchpole to bewitch her parents and siblings into believing that there had never been an Edie Filbert after all. It wasn't a pleasant imagination. And speaking of Percy…

"They don't know you're a Muggle yet, you know. The mediwitch just in here didn't think to check. Healer Smethwyck, though– he'll be able to tell. I'm sorry. I don't think there's anything I can do to get you out of it this time. They'll finish treating you, and then wipe your memory. I'm sorry."

Edie realized that she could move the little finger of her left hand. She wiggled it over and over until her whole hand had the feeling back in it. The hand belonging to the person beside her bed reached out and grabbed it, must have thought that's what she wanted. Edie tried to talk– still nothing. She began to work on her other hand.

"It's almost midnight, in case you wanted to know," the voice continued. "I was done at the Ministry by five, and when I went to the Leaky Cauldron, Tom said you hadn't come back. Everyone was talking about some girl passing out covered in boils and I figured it had to be you. No one else would have caught scrofungulus. Like the mediwitch said, wizard children naturally have the proper defenses."

Edie found that she could move her feet. That didn't help. All she wanted was to be able to turn her head.

"Your old clothes are in that cupboard over there." Edie noticed an armoire across the room labeled PATIENTS' BELONGINGS and realized that she was in a cotton hospital gown. "They had your journal too, though, so I took it. I apologize for that, but when you're memory's gone, I expect you'll want it back."

Edie found she was able to jerk her head a little, perhaps a reflex due to surprise at this revelation. Slowly, she found she was able to twist her head a little on the pillow.

"I mean, I expect that it might help you get your memories back. I know that some spells can break through memory charms. If it isn't a terribly strong one they put on you, there might be a chance…" Percy Weasley was talking quickly, incessantly, and Edie noticed that he looked incredibly worried. If he was out of the Ministry by five, he might have been sitting there with her for hours.

"You think I could get them again?" Edie found that she was able to speak in a harsh, scratchy voice. Her throat felt extremely dry.

Percy's face brightened. "It's really wearing off then!" he said happily. "Good. I didn't want Smethwyck to get here and wipe your memory before you could speak agan."

Edie felt a twinge of annoyance. Percy was clearly avoiding her question.

"Do you really think I could get my memory back again?" she asked, in a clearer voice.

Percy looked straight at her. "No, not really," he answered honestly. "I was just saying that to make myself feel better, I suppose. Memory charms break, but usually only under extreme stress– torture, oftentimes. I don't expect yours will ever return. Here." He pulled the small notebook out of his pocket it and placed it on the edge of Edie's bed.

Edie appreciated the frank answer, but couldn't help feeling disappointed. "Thanks for taking the journal," she said. "I won't ever believe it, but at least I won't have lost everything."

"Right, right," said Percy. He paused for a moment, looking away, but suddenly his eyes brightened and his face seemed to grow resolute.

"You know," he said. "You might not remember all of _this_, and the World Cup, but, if you wanted, I could make sure you know that magic exists again."

Edie frowned, but didn't answer. She wanted so much to believe all of this, but something wasn't right.

"I know where your house is– it wouldn't be so hard. And you could talk to my brothers. They'll remember you, even if you can't reciprocate. You have your notes– knowledge can be relearned. You can relearn everything! Quidditch, what different spells do, information about Hogwarts, about Diagon Alley. Everything!"

Edie paused. "But what if," she offered. "What if some things aren't just memorizing? Not everything in memories is pure knowledge. There are… feelings, too. And what if… what if those are circumstantial? Can you get circumstances back?"

Percy seemed to know exactly what Edie was talking about, but looked totally unphased. "Not the exact circumstances," he said. "But if the people are the same, then whatever feelings there were… well, those should come back too, I expect."

The words were right, but Edie didn't believe them. Why didn't she believe them? He seemed earnest enough. And yet, even though she fervently wished all this was true, there was something bothering her… something about a painting…

"Who's Dilys?" Edie asked suddenly.

"What?" Percy asked, confused.

"Dilys," she replied. "That doctor said the healer, Smethwyck, was busy because he was talking to a painting. Someone named Dilys. She said it was a nightmare, and something about Dumbledore, and Potter. Harry Potter, right? What were they right about all along?"

Percy's face had gone rather hard, and he wouldn't make eye contact. "How would I know?" he said rather quickly.

"You know!" Edie said, upset. "She said something about the Minister. If it has to do with the Ministry of Magic, then you know!"

Percy closed his eyes and took a breath. "How do you know who Harry Potter is?"

Edie didn't have time for this. "I saw him on Stoatshead Hill that day, and I read his interview in _The Quibbler_. But what's going on?" she asked impatiently.

"You-Know-Who… the leader of those dark wizards, you know," Percy said in a very strained voice. "He was at the Ministry this evening… he and the Death Eaters. He's back."

Edie was surprised. "Well we already knew that, didn't we?" she asked. Percy looked a bit shocked. "That's what that interview said all along, isn't it? Didn't the Ministry believe it?"

But she could tell from Percy's face that the Ministry hadn't believed _The Quibbler_, and that Percy was looking particularly tired and haggard because he'd just learned that evening the worst news the wizarding world had heard in fifteen years. Edie suddenly understood.

"You're lying!" she cried. "Now that you know he's back, you think it's too dangerous for me, all this, because I'm a Muggle!"

Percy shook his head. "No," he said steadily. "I'm not lying. I said I'd help you get back into the–"

Edie didn't want to hear it. "I know you're lying," she said. "Don't try to convince me otherwise." Percy didn't. He was clearly waiting to hear what she would say next. Edie was horrified.

"You're trying to be the _hero_, aren't you?" she said disparagingly. "You think that you can help me best by locking me out of this world for good! Because it's too _dangerous_. Because I'd be a _target_."

Percy looked miserable, and finally couldn't take the accusations anymore. "I am not lying to you!" he shouted. Edie was taken aback.

"I'm not lying," he repeated. "I promised I'd help you, and I will. I gave you your notes back, didn't I? Those will help you. I want you to remember, all right? Don't you think I'd want you to get everything back too? All your knowledge and… everything else?"

Edie shook her head. "I don't believe you," she whispered. Percy shook his head and looked away.

"Fine," he said coldly. "You don't have to believe me. It doesn't really matter anyway, does it? You'll think you had some wonderful dream and neither of us will have lost anything incredibly important anyway. You said it– it was just chemistry, after all."

Edie didn't respond. The door opened and a tall, smiling man wearing lime green robes entered. He clapped his hands together once and beamed down at Edie.

"Edie Filbert, is that right?" he asked pleasantly. Edie nodded. "Wondeful. Well, Edie, I've been looking over your case file and I'm sorry, but, _we know_. You're a Muggle, aren't you?"

Edie drew herself up a little in her bed. "I am," she said steadily.

Healer Smethwyck nodded knowingly and pulled a flask containing a bright purple liquide out of his robes. "All right then," he said. If you would take this for the fever– we've already treated the boils, the scars'll be gone in a day or two– then we can do a simple spell to wipe your memory and get you right back home. I promise you, you won't feel a thing."

Edie downed the flask in one gulp. It tasted a bit like Muggle cough medicine, except for the fact that it sent a cool tingling feeling right up to her head. She knew immediately that the fever was gone.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"Not at all," said Smethwyck brightly. "Just like magic, eh?" Edie figured he had been instructed to be as careful as possible not to upset the Muggle. He could not possible be this happy, considering what he had just found out about Voldemort.

"Now, I am just going to say the magic word and you're memory of this awful experience will be gone. Quite a relief, hmm?"

Edie nodded stiffly. "Yes. It will be a relief to have this done with, finally."

"Good, good," said Smethwyck. He pulled out his wand and, with a flourish– "OBLIVIATE!"

Edie Filbert opened her eyes and found herself in a hospital bed, surrounded by a smiling man in the most hideous clothing imaginable and a younger man sitting beside her. He was holding her hand.

"Are you the nurse?" she asked the younger man. He had the reddest hair he'd ever seen, and the most horrified expression on his face. "Have I just had surgery?"

The redhead nodded. Edie smiled. "Well thank you for being so kind," she said happily. "I'll tell my family I had the best care here. I can't really remember what happened, but I must've gotten sick. I was at a scholarship program, in London."

"That's very nice," said the redhead. "Congratulations." He took a small black notebook off the edge of the bed and pocketed it.

"Is that yours?" Edie asked. "Do you keep a journal?"

The nurse nodded.

"Oh, that's nice!" said Edie brightly. " I've always wanted to keep a journal, but I never quite had the stamina. Anyway, I'll make sure to tell my parents I had the best care here. I don't know why they didn't come… oh well! I got sick at a scholarship program, you know, in London."

Edie couldn't surmise why the nurse looked so pained by her comments. And he still hadn't let go of her hand.

"Excuse me," she said as she pulled it away, a bit warily. "Thanks…"


	13. Happy Christmas

Happy Christmas 

Edie Filbert was a completely ordinary Muggle girl, not that she would have understood what the word "Muggle" meant, anyway. She had an older sister, a younger brother, an even younger sister, two boring but well-meaning parents, and a nice small house in Devon (just outside Ottery St. Catchpole, to be precise). There was absolutely nothing extraordinary about her at all, except perhaps for the fact that she was nearly bouncing off the walls due to excitement about being home with her family for Christmas after half a year away at university.

Edie and Mrs. Filbert were rummaging through her closets, drawers, and under the bed to clean out clothing and other items that she hadn't taken away to school that could be given away (in addition to her retirement home, Mrs. Filbert had begun to volunteer at a children's center).

"Oh! That's disgusting!" Edie cried, pulling a sock out of the back of one of her drawers and holding it gingerly an arm's length away. For a moment, she hadn't even realized it was a sock. It was stiff, caked in something rust-colored that Edie figured was blood. No paint looked like that.

"Edie!" said Mrs. Filbert, pulling back from her daughter a few feet and wrinkling her nose. "Why in the world was that in your _bureau_?"

Edie shook her head and brought the sock closer to inspect it further. Mrs. Filbert sighed and shook her head. There were some things you just didn't get into.

Edie stretched the sock out in her lap and was surprised to feel that something was inside. She reached in and pulled out a wrinkled, stained scrap of paper. Just barely legible were the words:

_Write NO MATTER WHAT– Fred and George Weasley, The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole_

"Mum?" Edie asked. "Do we know any Weasleys?"

Mrs. Filbert shrugged as she folded a thick woolen jumper and placed it in the "give away" pile. "Never heard the name," she replied. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing," Edie said, placing the little note in her pocket. She couldn't remember ever meeting anyone named Weasley either, but she had to check to make sure. She'd been having trouble remembering quite a few things lately. Her parents had taken her to the doctor after she came back from her scholarship program the last spring unable to explain what she had done or worked on. He'd said it was nothing serious, just minor amnesia from the concussion she'd gotten. Edie did remember passing out and waking up in a hospital somewhere, after all.

The little scrap of paper was strange, though. It was written in a strong, neat script– definitely not Edie's handwriting. It almost looked like it had been written with a quill. And why did she had it wrapped up in a bloody sock in the back of one of her dresser drawers? Edie glanced at her mother and decided that, when she was alone again, she would write a letter to this Fred and George Weasley. If she had one distinguishing quality, Edie Filbert had an incredibly strong sense of curiosity.

Percy Weasley _wanted_ to make up with his family. He really did. He thought it would be perfect and less of a blow to his pride, though, if he went with a reason other than apologizing. He picked the wrong reason.

The moment he walked into the Burrow with the new Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, Percy knew that there would be no reconciliation that day, not even on Christmas. As he hugged his tear-eyed mother and Scrimgeour pulled Harry Potter out of the room to talk, Percy glanced at the rest of his family at the table. His father, steely-eyed, was staring at him appraisingly. His siblings just looked angry. They had every right to be, of course, and Percy knew that. He also knew, however, that coming with the Minister had made it impossible for anyone (save his mum, perhaps) to accept any apology he might try to make.

He and Mrs. Weasley let go of each other, the latter dabbing her eyes with the edge of her apron. "Oh, oh Happy Christmas, Percy."

"Happy Christmas, Mum," he said. And then, as he turned to the rest of his family, his brother Fred flung a spoonful of mashed parsnips straight at his glasses. George high-fived his twin. Ginny (Ginny!) laughed derisively. And Percy stormed out of the room, all resolution to make up having evaporated.

As he wiped his glasses off in the entryway, Percy listened to his mother telling off her son, between great heaving sobs. He knew he should've stayed in there and taken it– he'd probably made his mum feel worse by coming in the first place– but he couldn't. He had tried and failed, and if they didn't want him back, even on Christmas Day, then he didn't want to be there.

Something on a side table caught his eye. It was a letter, already opened, addressed to Fred and George. He figured it was an order form for some of their joke products, not that all of them were used for pranks. The Ministry had placed a massive order for Shield Hats from the Weasleys' Wizard Wheazes store in Diagon Alley. Percy glanced at the postscript– _Edie Filbert, 413 Philpine Way, Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon._

Percy had absolutely no qualms about unrolling the piece of binder paper the letter was written on. In the envelope, he also found a stained piece of paper that bore the address of the Burrow in what was unmistakably either Fred or George's handwriting. Percy figured Edie must have kept it safe and separate, tearing it out of the notebook he had taken to prevent her searching out magic again and hiding it. Somehow, Edie must have recently re-discovered the address. He read the letter:

_Dear Mr. and Mr. Weasley,_

_My name is Edie Filbert. I don't believe I've ever met you, but this note I've included is not in my writing, so I suppose I must have (especially since you live so near Ottery) at some time and forgotten. I've recently suffered a concussion, so my forgetting things is nothing extraordinary. Anyway, I am back from school for Christmas vacation, and was going through my old things when I found your address. Actually, I found it in an old, rolled up, bloody sock. I can't imagine how or why it could be there either, because I don't recall ever getting any serious leg injuries. Still, it said to write and I felt I ought to. I hope you have a very Happy Christmas and apologize for forgetting the circumstances by which we met._

_Sincerely,_

_Edie Filbert_

Percy felt a rush of anxiety overwhelm him. Edie was on the trail of magic again– it was like nothing could keep her away! And Fred and George most certainly were not two to consider that keeping her away was of the utmost importance. She was a Muggle, and she'd already been attacked once. Not to mention the International Statute of Secrecy… Even to himself, Percy's arguments felt feeble. He put the letter down, and saw that his brothers had written, sealed, and stamped a response. He opened it.

_Dearest Edie Filbert,_

_If you are interested in remembering the circumstances surrounding our first meeting again, please meet us on December 26__th__ at noon, on Stoatshead Hill. A Happy Christmas and Happy New Year to you as well!_

_Yours truly,_

_Fred and George Weasley_

Percy scowled. They would tell her everything, and she would continue to find her way into magic-related situations until she was hurt again. How could those two possibly be so irresponsible? he wondered sullenly. Pulling out his wand, Percy altered the letter to read _December 27__th__ at noon_ and magically re-sealed it, placing it back on the table with Edie's letter.

One day later, Fred and George Weasley waited eargerly to "meet" their Muggle friend from the World Cup again. Clearly her mind had been wiped at some point, but they figured from her concussion story that it hadn't been before she'd landed herself in enough trouble to get her to St. Mungo's. Was that where the blood was from? She never showed up, and the twins returned to their home having decided that her parents had persuaded her they were stalkers, kidnappers, or the like. They decided not to force the matter.

Two days later, Edie Filbert stood on Stoatshead Hill, waiting for the elusive Fred and George Weasley. Nobody ever showed up, and she walked back home, strangely disappointed. She went to sleep with the thought in her head that Fred and George Weasley lived in Ottery St. Catchpole.


	14. The Quibbler Again

A/N: The passage of time would make this chapter take place near the end of Deathly Hallows. If you haven't read it yet, there are some minor spoilers. **The Quibbler Again**

But Edie never did search out that place after all, that elusive house, "The Burrow." She asked her father if he'd ever heard of such a place in Ottery St. Catchpole, and when he said he hadn't, she figured that she shouldn't be looking for the well-hidden house of two men she didn't know and whose address she'd found covered in blood, of all things. She went back to school, and managed not to think about it for some months. Edie returned to her school in London.

All the same, strange things kept happening to Edie all year. She heard words whispered in the streets, nonsense names and terms she felt as though she'd heard before somewhere– "Harry Potter" was one she heard often, and "Dumbledore" and "Death Eaters" once or twice. No search online or in any library yielded any clues as to why she kept hearing these things, or why she felt she'd known what they meant once. A couple times, even, Edie felt herself drawn to a particular spot on Charing Cross Road. She'd stand on the sidewalk and stare at the crack between two stores, as if expecting something to appear in between. What she expected to see, though, she couldn't ever say.

Edie figured it was nerves. Summer was coming again and she thought it would be a good chance for her to rest back at home and gather her strength. She ate Christmas dinner with her family and spent the next week doing absolutely nothing. It was a nice break– until her little sister ran into her room screaming one night in June about a nightmare.

It was the same one she'd been having for months, evidently, about a short, fat woman coming into her room and shooting lights at her. Edie told her it was just a dream, couldn't possibly be real, and to go back to sleep, but the girl didn't seem at all consoled.

"I have to tell you something," she whispered.

Edie frowned at her sister. "What did you do?" she asked.

Sharon Filbert played with the cover on Edie's bed and looked over at her sister's bureau. "I took something out of your drawers," she said. "A magazine, a looooong time ago. It was weird– the pictures in it… they _moved_. I thought it was what gave me the bad dreams, so I threw it away, but it didn't work. I still have them."

Edie was confused. She couldn't remember ever having a magazine with pictures that moved, but she didn't remember a lot of things. Come to think of it…

"Where in the bureau was it?" Edie probed, a shiver of excitement running up and down her spine.

Her sister made a face. "It was gross," she said. "It was with this bloody sock, in the very back."

Edie didn't even bother to yell at her sister for having rummaged through her things. A strange magazine, Edie's sock (with the address), the Weasleys, the Burrow– everything was related somehow. She was sure that the whispers in London she'd been hearing all year had to be part of the puzzle too, but she couldn't see how it all fit together. At least, though, she knew she wasn't crazy. Her sister was part of it too.

"Tell me all about the magazine," Edie said eagerly, pulling out one of her school notebooks and a pen and writing down everything Sharon said.

"There was a picture of a boy on the front," she said. "He had glasses… and black hair. And a scar! He had a weird scar, really jagged, like a lightning bolt, too. He gave an interview, but it must've been a joke or something because he kept talking about witches and wizards and _Death Eaters_." Edie started. "I think his name was Harry something. It was a common name, anyway."

"Harry Potter," Edie supplied. Her sister looked up, surprised.

"Yeah!" she said. "Do you remember?"

"No," Edie said, shaking her head. "I don't recall ever having such a magazine." Sharon looked a bit confused, but Edie didn't take any heed. "Do you remember anything else?" she asked.

Sharon frowned, and seemed to take great interest in picking a scab off of her left knee. "The Editor," she said. "I only remember him because he had a really, really weird name. It was _Xenophilius_ something. Oh! Oh I know! Xenophilius Lovegood! Hey, didn't Dad say that there was a Lovegood living around here somewhere?"

Edie smiled faintly in the darkness. "No, no, I don't think so. That is a funny a name, though."

Sharon giggled. "If I have a kid, I'm going to name him _Xenophilius_."

"That's right," said Edie, standing up and guiding her sister back to her own bed. "Sleep tight now, and don't have anymore bad dreams."

Sharon yawned. "All right," she said, and promptly fell asleep.

Edie ran back to her own room to pull on jeans and a coat under and over her nightshirt. Her dad _had_ mentioned a Lovegood lately, as a matter of fact. Said their house had _exploded_ as he shook his head– "What did I say about zoning laws? When your buildings aren't up to code, things like this happen."

But things like that didn't happen. When houses weren't up to code, they were susceptible to damage in floods and earthquakes and mudslides. Other than a strange dreary mist in the sky all the time, the weather had been fairly normal. Houses did not just explode spontaneously because they weren't up to code. Houses were generally very stable structures. Something was wrong here, and Edie was going to figure out just what it was.

She didn't leave a note for her parents, just grabbed her notebook and ran out the door. She glanced at her watch. It wasn't as early as she had expected– already seven in the morning. Edie attributed it to the strange fog, but it didn't really matter. She ran down to the village and tried to remember what her father had said about the Lovegoods's house. Something about a hill… but that didn't matter either. Her feet seemed to know where to go, and they traced a winding path up a dark street by her old high school. She reached the top and found that her dad had been right– a big hole had been exploded out of one wall. She couldn't imagine how something like that could happen without being covered at least on the local news.

She took a few steps across the lawn and noticed that it was strewn with papers. They were soggy, wet, and faded, as if they'd been there for weeks, maybe even months. She picked one up– it was the cover of a magazine, emblazoned with the picture of a young boy with glasses, dark hair, and a jagged scar. The caption below read UNDESIRABLE NUMBER ONE.


	15. Through the Burrow

The Burrow 

Edie stared at the magazine cover­– it was the boy that her sister had described, which meant… the magazine was real. And the moving pictures? Harry Potter blinked spasmodically on the cover of _The Quibbler_. Edie grabbed another copy from beneath the hedge. This one had a couple more pages, and, inside, Edie was astounded to see the boy on the cover walking around in more pictures throughout the magazine, often moving from one frame to the next with ease. Edie threw the magazine back onto the ground, breathing heavily.

She knew she was awake. It was chilly out and Edie had run perhaps half a mile down to the village and up to the Lovegood house. There was no way this was all happening in a dreamlike half-asleep state. Gingerly, she picked it up again and opened to the second page. Xenophilius Lovegood, Editor-in-Chief, was very clearly waving to her from his picture. This was not a dream.

Edie turned on her heel and headed down the hill again, but not by the same path she came up. The Weasleys, that Fred and George, seemed to have given her their address around the same time she got her first _Quibbler_, possibly before. They were the only names she could definitively connect with the strange events that must have taken place before, somehow, she lost her memories. And, even better, she could connect a definite place with them. The Burrow.

There was only one place Edie could think of that might be considered within the bounds of Ottery St. Catchpole that she wouldn't have explored and her father wouldn't survey as part of his territory– beyond the hill on which the Lovegoods's house stood (sort of, in its dilapidated state) was another hill and a small, overrun orchard. Edie had never thought to go there, and had never heard tell of a house being located in that part of Ottery, but if no one had found it yet, that's where it had to be. It would be a long walk, a couple miles at least, but Edie was determined to piece this strange puzzle together and convinced that these Weasleys were the right people to help her. They seemed to be a part of everything.

The walk was farther than Edie had expected, but, sure enough, a house stood nestled against the hill she had seen from the Lovegoods's– the Burrow. It was perhaps more run-down than even the Lovegoods'; Edie mused that her father would be horrified at the (clear, even to Edie) disregard for zoning laws. This house was without a doubt not up to any code. She wondered how it could be standing at all.

"Ouch!" Edie cried as something looking like a potato with legs nipped her on the ankle. She raced out of the garden and hurried up to the doorway, knocking three times. No one answered. She knocked a little more forcefully. Still, no answer. Edie frowned and, too distraught to worry about being nosy, peered into the cloudy window. The house looked empty. Edie tried the doorknob and, amazingly, it was unlocked.

"Hello?" Edie called as she stepped inside. "Is anybody home?" There was no response and, as Edie reached the kitchen, she concluded that the house was truly empty. But it was no house like she had ever seen before– or could remember having seen, anyway. Moving family pictures of smiling red-headed parents and children shone from every wall and surface. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley seemed to have a great number of children. And then, perched inside a large cooking pot, Edie saw a huge clock. Instead of having two hands, however, there were nine, each one bearing the name of one of the Weasley family.

"Arthur… Molly… Bill…. Charlie… Percy…" Edie muttered as she looked at each hand. She paused– Percy sounded very familiar, but she couldn't imagine why. She was looking for Fred and George, and there they were, their hands pointing straight up at here the twelve ought to have been. Instead of a twelve, however, it read MORTAL PERIL. Edie shuddered. Maybe that's why they weren't here. Maybe they were all… No. She wouldn't think about it.

She left the kitchen to get away from the clock and ended up in a small, cluttered parlor with a large fireplace. A flowerpot sat on the mantle, but there was nothing growing in it. Someone had written the words FLOO POWDER along the top. And beneath– "Speak clearly!"

Edie frowned, looking from the pot to the fireplace. She took it down from the shelf. Inside, little green granules sparkles even in the dim light. She grabbed a handful and, on a whim, threw it into the fireplace. Immediately, bright green flames jumped up in the grate. Edie jumped back. When the fire died down, she stepped in herself.

"I cannot believe I'm doing this," Edie muttered as she grabbed a handful of powder from the pot. _Speak clearly!_ "Hogwarts School!" she cried, and threw the powder into the air. In a moment, Edie was engulfed in harmless green flames and whirling past countless other fireplaces. After what seemed like ages, she hurtled out of one and fell onto her knees on a thick carpet.

She stood up quickly. "Hello?" she asked, voice quivering as she looked around the room. She felt as though her legs were about to give out at any moment. She had traveled through a fireplace, by fire, by… magic? It certainly seemed like magic, but it couldn't be, could it? As she looked around the room, it grew clearer and clearer to Edie that there was no other explanation.

It was a round office, with books lining most of the wall up to the ceiling. Pushed to the side of the room were little carts bearing whirring silver instruments, one of which was giving off smoke and one of which looked to be levitating.

"Edie Filbert, is it?" a strangely familiar voice asked. Edie jumped. "I've been wondering when I'd see you again."


	16. The Penseive

**The Penseive**

Edie gasped. From a large from hanging behind the desk in the center of the office, a _portrait_ was speaking to her.

"W-what?" she asked.

The man in the picture just beamed. He looked old, with long silver hair and an even longer beard. Perched on his head was a tall, pointed blue hat, and on his crooked nose, shining golden spectacles. "I expected we might have a Muggle visitor one of these days," he continued.

"Muggles?" she asked, still too bewildered to do much more than stare. She noticed that the walls were covered with frames, but all, currently, were empty.

"Non-magic people," said the painting serenely. "But you already know that."

Edie shook her head. "No," she managed. "No, I don't."

"Oh yes you do," said the _wizard_. "And, actually, you know me as well. Rather, you knew me while I was living. _I'm_ only a painting."

Edie gaped. Magic. She didn't even know how she had gotten here. What had she even yelled– _Hogwarts_? It was just a nonsense word, but standing in that fireplace, it felt right. She had a sudden flash of inspiration.

"Are you- are you named Dumbledore?" she asked. The man in the picture smiled and bowed in assent. Edie shivered.

"I can give you proof, you know," said Dumbledore. "I had enough foresight to recognize that there might be people who need some of my memories after I'm gone."

Edie had no idea what the man was talking about, but she didn't protest. If there was proof, proof that she had met this Dumbledore once, proof that she was connected with this magic world, then she wanted to see it.

"See that cupboard over there? Open it, and you should find a little shelf filled with labeled flasks."

Edie walked over to a large door in the wall and opened it. On a table sat what looked like an incredibly old, weathered bowl, and above, glass flasks filled with something bright and silver. Before Dumbledore even had a chance to give further instructions, Edie found the one she was looking for– Edie Filbert, Muggle. She picked up the little bottle and looked back at the portrait.

"Go on, pour it into the bowl."

Edie wondered if "pour" was the right adjective– the contents of the flask were not quite liquid, she thought. In any case, she emptied the bottle into the bowl, and immediately, the liquid-gas contents began to spin.

"What is it?" Edie asked, looking closer. She thought, but must have been imagining of course, that she could see her _room_.

"It's a Penseive," Dumbledore said placidly. "And the contents of the bottle, those are thoughts. Now I should be getting back to the Battle soon, so you might want to hurry up."

_Hurry up?_ Edie thought. She still had no idea what to do. But the painting had mentioned a battle… Edie put her face as close to the thoughts as possible without touching them, but when she still couldn't see any better, plunged her whole head in. Immediately, Edie was falling headfirst into the bowl, and from there, her own bedroom. The man from the painting was standing in the middle of the room, talking to a girl (herself!) on her bed.

"… apologize for having startled you," the man was saying. Edie gaped. This was impossible. This was a trick! And yet, she didn't really believe it was a trick. The man in the portrait had seemed so naturally trustworthy that she felt it would be a betrayal of sorts not to believe him.

"… here to find out how a young Muggle girl could possibly have done all the things that she claimed in this letter." From his robes the man pulled out an envelope. Edie stepped closer to get a better look. The letter, more than anything, settled it. That was most definitely her writing on the front.

"Of course, I do not blame you at all for trying to keep your memories. They sanctity of the mind is… quite integral to a person's identity, I would say. To invade a person's mind, to be able to alter what they perceive to be reality, is a great power. Sometimes, I think, too great."

Edie frowned. How could he say that? More than likely, this was the same wizard who erased her memory. She glanced at the Edie sitting on her bed– she was frowning too.

"Now, of course, I do not at all doubt what you wrote– Muggles, I've always thought, have an incredible ingenuity that can outperform even the best-cast spells." Edie felt a sudden swelling of fierce pride. "Your letter, however, is written in a way that appears to be shielding someone… someone helped you. Am I right?"

Edie drew closer at this. If she knew someone, someone in the wizarding world…

"I met a Fred and George Weasley at the World Cup." Edie took a sharp intake of breath. Fred and George Weasley! So she did know them! It all was making sense, but Edie knew that something was still missing. The World Cup…? She had no recollection of that.

"…you were freed from the Death Eaters, how did you avoid having your memory obliviated?"

Edie was shocked to hear this– she'd been captured by _Death Eaters?_ She glanced down at her leg and pulled up her jeans. She'd always wondered how she'd gotten that jagged scar from ankle to knee. But Edie (the thought-Edie) was talking again, and the watching-Edie wanted to listen.

"That thing, that skull, up in the sky– all the Ministry wizards who'd saved us ran off to find who's put it up there. They left us alone for a few minutes, and I ran really deep into the forest to hide. I took a Portkey home again the next morning– nobody was thinking of those posters they'd put up of me after that. Someone'd figured it out at the World Cup, you see, and they had drawn my face and told everyone to look out for a Muggle intruder."

Edie knew that she, in this memory, was lying. She had done it enough times, trained herself to look straight at the person since its so natural to not want to make eye contact when you're being false. Edie knew she was lying, but she couldn't remember who she was covering up for. Why couldn't she remember? Edie felt a sudden surge of hatred for the wizard in the room with her. Why would he give her this memory when, she was certain, in a moment he was going to take it back again from her other self sitting on the bed? Her other-self seemed to be thinking the exact same thing.

"Aren't you going to erase my memory?"

"Why? Do you want me too?"

Edie squinted at the thought-Dumbledore. If he didn't… then what else didn't she remember?

And then he was saying, "There are some things more important than adhering strictly to proper procedure. Algebra, perhaps." And then, he had disappeared. Edie found herself standing in the office again. She turned back to the picture.

"You knew I was lying, didn't you?" she asked. Dumbledore nodded. Edie's face brightened. "You read my mind, didn't you? You must have those memories, too! I can get them back!" She was nearly jumping with excitement, but Dumbledore only shook his head.

"I meant what I said in there," he said solemnly. "The sanctity of the human mind. I could have read your mind quite easily, but I didn't. That one memory is all I have for you."

Edie felt like a leaden weight had just been dropped into her stomach. She wouldn't get them back after all. There was no way… unless the painting… but he had said he was dead.

"Thanks," Edie whispered. Dumbledore nodded politely.

"I should be back to the Battle, then," he said, and walked right out of his frame. Edie looked around, but he didn't appear anywhere else in the room. She sighed, and decided that she ought to get out of the office and see what this Battle was about. Just in case, she grabbed the poker from the fireplace and opened the door very cautiously. A long, winding staircase led from the doorway down what had to be at least two stories. The moment she stepped on, though, it began to twist downward of its own accord. Edie had the sensation of riding a great stone escalator until she was left on the ground floor facing a great stone statue of a gargoyle. The way behind her snapped shut.

Holding her fire poker at the ready, Edie walked sideways along the wall. The corridor she stood in was empty, but there were, unmistakably, the sounds of screaming and shouting coming from further down. She turned and headed the other way. If these were wizards fighting, likely using magic, she didn't want to get caught up in the fight with only a _fire poker_. Someone else seemed to think the same thing.

"Lost your wand?" a cold, grating voice asked as a man in black robes and a skull-like mask stepped out into the corridor. Edie wanted to scream, but the cry for help caught in her throat as the wizard lifted what had to be a wand. Edie knew he was about to curse her. She tried to run, but her legs were as stiff as if they'd been glued to the stone beneath her. The man drew closer, but he didn't shout any complicated spells, and she didn't feel anything happen to her. All that the wizard shouted was–

"_YOU!_"


	17. Crucio!

**Crucio**

Edie's feet finally regained the power of movement, and she turned and ran as fast as she could back to the gargoyle statute.

"Open up! Open up!" she cried. It didn't move.

"_Impedimenta_," said the wizard in black, flicking his wand at Edie lazily. Immediately, she was trapped again. Her legs simply refused to move.

"What, no even going to say hello?" asked the grating voice again. Edie shook her head, grabbed her legs with her hands and tried to forcibly move them. It didn't work.

"I don't know you!" she screeched. "I've never met you before!"

The man laughed, and Edie was reminded uncomfortably of fingernails being dragged down a chalkboard.

"I think you have met me. You're one of those disgusting, _filthy_ Muggles from the World Cup! And _now_, you've come to defile this school, this monument of _wizarding_ blood, _clean _blood!"

Edie was terrified, but more than that, she was angry. "There's nothing wrong with being a Muggle!" she screamed. "There's nothing filthy about it!" But Edie knew that any protest she made wasn't going to have any impact on changing what that horrible wizard seemed to have made up his mind to do. He raised his wand–

"_Crucio!"_

Edie was on the hard stone ground, writhing in pain. Every inch of her skin was burning, every limb felt like it was slowly being pulled out of joint. She screamed for help, she screamed for him to stop and… it did.

_She pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed her sweater, camera, notebook, and pen, and snuck downstairs. Deciding it was safest that her parents didn't panic when they woke up and found she was gone, she wrote a quick note and stuck it to the refrigerator._

Edie had bashed her head against the wall as she thrashed around on the ground– but, where had she just been? She had been at home… she was following someone.

"CRUCIO!"

It was pain like she had never felt it before, but something stopped her tongue from begging for release again. She knew… somehow she knew she only had to feel it a little bit longer…

_Edie rubbed the back of her head and looked at the little girl in trepidation. She was probably about seven or eight, holding out her broomstick with such a terrified expression that Edie had the sense that she might be the less frightened of the two, for a change._

"_WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" twelve voices shouted at once. Edie was floating again, but it was a different quality, lighter, if that was possible. Gently, she drifted down to a harmless plop onto the ground, the rest of the Roberts family plopping down around her soon after._

Her spine was about to snap. She knew it– she could picture it happening, see how the blood would splatter all over those clean stone walls, how the man would laugh… how the Death eater would laugh, because she knew that's what he was…

"_Now, of course, I do not at all doubt what you wrote– Muggles, I've always thought, have an incredible ingenuity that can outperform even the best-cast spells. Your letter, however, is written in a way that appears to be shielding someone… someone helped you. Am I right?"_

"_It's here! It's here!" she cried. The witch ran over in a flash and bent down under the tank. "Aguamenti!" she cried, and a stream of water flew out of her wand. Edie heard a hissing sound, which might have been the eggs sputtering out or might have been the snake voicing its disapproval. It slithered out lazily and flicked its tongue out at Edie._

"_Your old clothes are in that cupboard over there." Edie noticed an armoire across the room labeled PATIENTS' BELONGINGS and realized that she was in a cotton hospital gown. "They had your journal too, though, so I took it. I apologize for that, but when you're memory's gone, I expect you'll want it back."_

Edie was going to die. Either that, or she would be driven insane by the pain. Why didn't she beg him to stop?

_Percy looked straight at her. "No, not really," he answered honestly. "I was just saying that to make myself feel better, I suppose. Memory charms break, but usually only under extreme stress– torture, oftentimes. I don't expect yours will ever return. Here." He pulled the small notebook out of his pocket it and placed it on the edge of Edie's bed._

"Percy Weasley!" Edie cried. The wizard lifted his wand.

"What?" he screamed angrily. Edie couldn't move and felt like every bone in her body had been broken. She could hardly draw a breath, but she was so close… one more, and she was certain she'd have it. He said that memory charms broke under torture, hadn't he? Edie took a deep breath– she was going to need it.

"_CRUCIO!"_

For a moment, Edie believed she had been wrong. That was it, no more memories were coming. All she could see was the ceiling spinning above her as the pain went on and on and on…

"_You're trying to be the hero, aren't you?" she said disparagingly. "You think that you can help me best by locking me out of this world for good! Because it's too dangerous. Because I'd be a target."_

"_Fine," he said coldly. "You don't have to believe me. It doesn't really matter anyway, does it? You'll think you had some wonderful dream and neither of us will have lost anything incredibly important anyway. You said it– it was just chemistry, after all."_

"_Good, good," said Smethwyck. He pulled out his wand and, with a flourish– "OBLIVIATE!"_

"_That's very nice," said the redhead. "Congratulations." He took a small black notebook off the edge of the bed and pocketed it._

"It's back! It's back! It's all back!" she shouted rapturously. And the pain had stopped, too. The Death Eater looked like he was listening hard for something.

"Lord Voldemort is merciful," a voice was booming across the grounds. "I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured."

In a flash of black, the wizard was gone, and Edie was left alone in the corridor, panting heavily.

"…die for you rather than face me yourself…"

Edie couldn't believe it. She remembered everything– the World Cup, the Death Eaters, The Quibbler, Dumbledore, Diagon Alley, St. Mungo's, Percy, and Voldemort. Voldemort had come back… and that was him speaking.

"… punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

Edie found the strength somehow to clutch onto the wall and pull herself up. This is why the Burrow was empty– they were all here, at Hogwarts, fighting Lord Voldemort. And Edie had one hour to find them.


	18. Another Weasley Helps

**Another Weasley Helps**

The shouts and screams from down the corridor had stopped, but now Edie heard another noise. It was quieter, but distinct: people crying. When a door opened at the other end of the hallway, one Edie hadn't noticed before, she knew what was wrong– they were bringing in all the dead. At first Edie thought he was just unconscious, the little blonde boy draped over the shoulder of a taller man who might have been twenty or so.

"Do you need help?" she asked, expecting to be asked to bring water or bandages for the boy, but the man just shook his head. Edie took a closer look, and had to choke back a sob. He was dead– a tiny little boy who couldn't have been older than fifteen or sixteen, dead. Edie looked away quickly and, when the man had passed, ran as fast as she could to the other end of the hallway. She would follow eventually, and help if she could (she doubted anyone would notice or care that she was a Muggle in the chaotic atmosphere, anyway), but she needed fresh air. She needed a moment to compose herself.

The door opened to the outside, and Edie had never seen so much destruction. There were trees uprooted all over the place, and huge indentations that might have been footprints dug into the grass. She wondered if there were giants in this place.

"There's a body down by the edge of the forest!" someone shouted, and Edie had to look around before she was sure that the person was talking to her. "Be careful! I'll be down in a minute to help!" And the girl was gone.

Edie took a couple deep breaths, and looked toward the forest yards and yards away. She thought she could just make out the shape of a pale figure lying on the grass. She wanted to run and hide, but slowly picked her way down the slope to the body. If they only had an hour before the Battle began again, they would need all the help available. She felt out of place, sure, but knew she was competent. Hadn't she gotten past magical obstacles before? It would be all right. Edie looked back up at the castle with a sigh, and started.

"No!" she cried. The school was no longer a castle, only a huge derelict building, half-constructed and going to pieces. At the place where the door into the corridor had just been was a painted sign bearing the words: DANGER! DO NOT ENTER!

Edie couldn't imagine how this had happened. She knew it hadn't been a dream. The pain she had– no. It was no dream. As if to reassure her, Edie watched as a girl with long red hair tied back in a long plait walked straight through the sign and onto the lawn to search for more injured. It had to be because she was a Muggle, Edie figured. The castle was there; she just couldn't see it properly.

She turned away and started back on her path down to the edge of the forest. It looked dark and dense in there, and she had no desire to get any closer, but if that was a student dead or injured, then he or she ought to be brought back to the castle.

Suddenly, though, something stopped Edie in her tracks. She felt cold all over, and weak. Every time she looked over at the body by the edge of the forest, she could imagine herself there. Strange thoughts kept running through her head– that she had no defenses in this place, that she had no way to get back home, that she was going to be caught and tortured again, that she was going to be killed. Edie tried to clear her head. Hadn't she just been thinking about why she _could_ do this? She knew she was competent because… Edie couldn't think of any arguments. All she knew was that she was a dirty, filthy, talentless Muggle. A useless Muggle who couldn't do anything to help in this battle, who could only get in the way. Edie sat down on the muddy, torn-up grass and began to shake uncontrollably. She was going to die. She was going to die and she would never see her family again.

_She pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed her sweater, camera, notebook, and pen, and snuck downstairs. Deciding it was safest that her parents didn't panic when they woke up and found she was gone, she wrote a quick note and stuck it to the refrigerator._

The scene kept playing over and over in her head. Edie moaned, curled up on her side on the lawn. "I shouldn't have gone," she muttered. "I should never have gone…"

It was the worst decision she had ever made. If she hadn't followed the Weasleys up Stoatshead Hill that morning, Edie would be safe at home and in no danger at all.

"Stop it! Stop it!" she cried. Her morbid thoughts seemed to have taken control of her mind. As hard as she tried, Edie couldn't think of anything happy, anything hopeful. All she could see were the figures of the Weasley family trudging through the village that morning, and her own stupid actions following them.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_ Edie watched in amazement as a brilliant silver horse galloped through the air and hovered just above her head. What was it doing? Edie could feel warmth in her hands again, and her breathing was less shallow. The horse was driving the strange feelings away, pushing forward in the air. Edie tried to sit up, but still found herself too weak. Lying back on the ground, Edie breathed a sigh of relief as she found she could remember Albus Dumbledore visitng her at her house, telling her how powerful Muggle ingenuity was, even next to magic. The memory filled her with a happy strength, and she turned to find the girl she had seen earlier exiting the castle. Wisps of her long red hair had fallen out of her braid, and she was bending over Edie with a worried expression.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

Edie closed her eyes and pictured her family, back in Ottery. They'd be sick with worry. This time, they probably would call the police.

"My mother…" Edie murmured vaguely. She couldn't seem to find the strength to form proper sentences.

"It's all right," the girl said. "It's okay. We're going to get you inside."

Edie shook her head weakly. "But I want to go _home_," she whispered, just barely audible. She wished she could make it clear that she had not way of _getting_ home at all without revealing her true identity as the girl nodded sympathetically. "I don't want to fight anymore…"

"I know," said the girl, her own voice cracking a little. Edie wondered what she had been going through– probably in the very thick of the fighting. "It's going to be all right." The girl clutched Edie's hand, and she got the feeling that it wasn't entirely for Edie.

"What– What were those things?" Edie hazarded. The girl's silver horse had driven the strange feelings away, but it hadn't been directed at Edie, which made her wonder if there were other things besides the castles that she couldn't see, because she was a Muggle.

"Dementors," said the girl, who gave Edie a strange look, as if she should have known that. She shook her head, and Edie figured she had put it down to stress. Suddenly, the girl looked around and nearly stood up. Edie turned her head– there was nothing there. It was funny, though, that the other girl had sensed something too. For a moment… Edie had thought she felt a cloak brush against her shoulder.

"Come on, we should get back to the Great Hall– you're injured," said the girl, helping Edie to her feet.

"There's nothing wrong with me," Edie said. Now that she knew she'd been attacked by some real (if unseen) creatures, she knew that there was nothing mentally wrong with her. As for physically– Edie looked down at her clothes, all stained with blood. She gasped, surprised. It must have been from the Death Eater in the corridor. How strange, Edie thought. She hadn't even noticed.

Edie trudged back up to the castle with the kind girl. There was no figure by the forest anymore– someone must have brought the body inside while Edie was being attacked by the dementors and the red-headed girl had helped her. The red-headed girl…

"Are you a Weasley?" Edie asked suddenly as they passed right through the "Do Not Enter" sign, as thought it wasn't even there.

"That's right," said the girl quietly. "Ginny."

"Edie," said Edie. "I just asked because… I know some of your brothers. Percy, and Fred and George."

Ginny hiccouphed, but Edie was sure it disguised a sob. "Did you?" she asked. "Me too." And she left Edie standing alone at the door where she knew they were taking all the wounded. The Great Hall?

Edie sighed and opened the door and entered into the largest room she had ever seen. Tables covered with people lined the walls, and it looked to have no ceiling. Clouds and stars swirled overhead– Edie noticed the sky was a little lighter. If that was really the sky she saw, then it would soon be morning.

Gathered around one table near the other end of the hall, Edie spotted a sea of redheaded people. It had to be the Weasley family. Edie took a few steps forward and laughed happily when she saw that Percy was hugging one of the twins tightly. They had made up! The family was all together again! Nothing like a crisis to– Edie gaped. They weren't only hugging; they were crying. Lying face-up on the table was the other twin, a trickle of blood having dried on the side of his face.


	19. The Sorting Hat

**The Sorting Hat**

Edie backed out of the Great Hall. She didn't want to be seen and recognized by them, not when this had happened. She ran down the corridor, looking in every door she passed to see if there was a fireplace and rummaging in her coat pockets to so if she still had some of that Floo Powder left.

"Harry Potter is dead," a voice boomed across the grounds again. Edie recognized it as the one she had heard before that drew away the Death eater torturing her. "He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."

Strangely, Edie felt a sob catch in her throat. She didn't know why she should be so emotional– the only things she knew about this Harry Potter were what she had read in that first _Quibbler_, and the glimpse of him that morning on Stoatshead Hill. But still, even from what little knowledge she had, Edie knew that Harry Potter would have been the one to defeat Voldemort once and for all, if anyone was going to do it. But now that he was dead… she expected she really was a goner after all, and those dementor-thoughts might not have been so far-off after all. A Muggle trapped in a Hogwarts controlled by Death Eaters? She wouldn't last long.

"… of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we will build together."

Edie shuddered, her legs weak. Parents, brothers and sisters… she almost envied the Weasleys at the moment. Even in their grief, they were together. Edie was alone, and she was going to die alone, miles and miles from her parents and siblings. She began to sob harder. She could try find the Weasleys in the crowd of people pressing through the hallway out onto the grounds, them being the only wizarding family she even barely knew, but she didn't want to intrude on them, not so soon after…

"NO!" someone screamed from the crowd, and Edie saw one of the Death Eaters, unmasked and revealed to be a woman, laughing horribly.

There were more cries of "No!" and "Harry!" and Edie found herself screaming along with them, caught up in the anger and grief of the crowd.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort shouted, brandishing his wand. "Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"

Edie couldn't see what was happening over the people all around her, but from the moans of the crowd, she could be sure that Harry Potter's body showed that he was, unequivocably, dead.

"He beat you!" someone shouted from nearby. Edie looked over her shoulder– it was a tall boy, with freckles and red hair. He had to be another Weasley. Sure enough, his family was gather around him. She saw Percy's head turn in her direction, but she pushed herself through the crowd until she could no longer either see them or be seen, not that she would have likely been seen anyway– the crowd was riotous again, screaming and shouting. There was a bang, a flash of light– Edie, closer to the edge of the group now, could see that a lone figure had broken free of the crowd to charge. He had, evidently, been hit with a spell as he now was trying to pick himself up from the ground.

Edie could hardly hear through the talking and yelling of the people around her, but there was another bang and they all were silenced.

"But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?" Voldemort was asking. The boy stood up proudly and clenched his hands into fists.

"So what if I am?"

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock." Edie choked back another sob. "…we need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over," the boy said defiantly, and then shouted, "Dumbledore's Army!" Edie felt herself cheering with the rest of the crowd, happy for a moment, amazingly. They wouldn't give up– they didn't believe this _blood_ nonsense and were going to fight! She felt a sense of awe and amazement that these people were wizards and witches, fighting for people like _her_ who didn't even know magic existed!

All of a sudden, Edie realized that in her celebrating, she had missed something. The boy stood stock-still before Voldemort as before, but it wasn't defiance anymore– he was paralyzed. Out of a tower window there flew a hat… it landed on the boy's head… it burst into flame. Edie screamed.

Everything was beginning to happen at the same time– the boy broke free of the curse, arrows were flying everywhere, the sound of hoofbeats echoing across the ground. The air was filled with war cries, and, in a flash of silver, the great green snake Voldemort wore draped across his arms was decapitated.

Edie screamed as countless giants, taller and greater than she could ever have imagined, came out of the forest. She ran, trying to escape being attacked in the chaos– what else could she do except run as fast as she could? She tripped, but got back onto her feet as quickly as possible, the thing she had fallen over gripped tightly in her hands. It was the hat.

Without even noticing, Edie had run straight into the dark, dense forest she had been so afraid of earlier. It was the only place there wasn't fighting going on at the moment, and Edie needed a place to hide. She tried to steady herself by taking a few deep breaths. How could she fight out there, against Death Eaters with magic and giants and dementors that she couldn't even see?

_Put on the hat,_ a voice in her head seemed to tell her. It was just like that day on Stoatshead Hill when something told her to pretend her surname was Fawcett and go to the Black Forest for the next Portkey. Somehow, she knew it was right. Edie pulled on the hat.

"No, no, don't be afraid," said the hat. "I won't burn _you_." It seemed to laugh, and Edie felt shivers up her spine.

"Hmm…" it continued. "I don't remember ever sorting this head…"

_I've never been sorted_, Edie thought. _I'm a Muggle._

"A Muggle, are you? Well, well, that's very interesting. I've never sorted a Muggle before," said the hat thoughtfully. "But let's see… you're resourceful, no doubt of that. Couldn't have gotten to Hogwarts otherwise, I expect. And quite determined. _Oh_ yes. Very, very determined, I see. But where to put you?"

_I don't need to be sorted into anything!_ Edie thought impatiently. _I just need a way to get home!_

"Get _home_?" the hat asked angrily. "I'm the Sorting Hat, not some sort of transportation system. Beside, there is a battle going on here. You should be fighting!"

Edie had an urge to take the hat off that instant– fight? That was no help at all! She couldn't fight! She didn't have any magic, not even a weapon like the sword that brave boy (Neil? Neville?) had had.

"No weapons?" asked the Hat. "You'd think a Muggle girl like yourself would have more sense."

"More sense!" Edie shouted aloud. "How can you even say that? How in the world am I supposed to fight out there if I can't even protect myself?"

If hats could shrug, then that's exactly what that one did. "That's not my job, to make decisions for you."

"But you said you sorted people and–"

"Not exactly," said the Hat. "I don't really do any sorting at all. It's the students who sort _themselves_. They just don't know it."

"So you weren't really going to sort me into a Hogwarts House, were you?" she asked. "I have to pick what I'm going to be– do."

"By jove, she has it!" shouted the Hat happily. "I was just going to remind you what the Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, told you."

"About Muggle innovation being comparable to magic?" Edie asked disparagingly. "All right, sure, but what do you know about that?"

"I can see into your head, my girl," replied the hat serenely. Edie scoffed.

"You didn't bother to pry into what Professor Dumbledore said about the _sanctity of the human mind_, did you?" she asked, a little annoyed.

The Hat replied with the air of one taking the high road, grudgingly: "I only saw what you showed me," it said.

Edie thought about that for a moment, and it was like in Muggle (her) cartoons, where a lightbulb suddenly turns on above a person's head as they're deep in thought.

"So…" she said hopefully. "Does that mean I was thinking about it… and just didn't realize it? Do you think it's true, then, that I don't need magic?"

"I don't expect it matters whether _I _think it's true," said the Hat. "_You_ have to sort _yourself._"

Edie walked to the edge of the forest and peered out. There was fighting everywhere. Suddenly, she noticed something flashing in the dark a few yards away. She stood up straighter, and recalled the two adjectives the Hat had used to describe her– resourceful, determined.

"I do believe it," Edie said resolutely. "And I'm going to be a Muggle." She smiled as she pulled off the hat and held it carefully in her hands. _But I'm still going to fight._


	20. Wit Beyond Measure

Wit Beyond Measure 

Something was glinting a few yards away– the sun had just barely begun to come up over the castle. Edie hadn't noticed it before in the darkness, but she suddenly saw a small hut on the boundary of the forest. In a garden outside, some large orange pumpkins were growing, and, trampling some of the plants, a massive black boarhound was barking and straining against its chain. That must have been what Edie had seen flashing.

Taking cover in the shadows of the trees, Edie sprinted to the hut. Coming closer and closer were two Death Eaters, one of whom seeming unconcerned that his mask had come off.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are…" he said with a cruel laugh. Edie shuddered. She was sure she hadn't been seen, but then, who could they be looking for?

"Don't let them see you!" a girl's voice whispered nearby. Edie nearly jumped out of her skin– pressed up against the mossy wall of the hut was a teenage girl, breathing heavily.

"I lost my wand!" she moaned. "I don't– I don't– I don't know what to _do!_" The girl looked positively catatonic with fear. Edie was terrified too, but, amazingly, she seemed to be the one who still had her head.

"No," Edie murmured, peering back around the corner at the Death Eaters. They were getting closer and closer any minute.

"We're _dead_, then!" the girl cried. "I shouldn't even be here! I'm underage!"

Edie felt her hands shake– she shouldn't even have been there either, but she was, and there was nothing to do about it but find a way to get past the Death Eaters and back into the castle.

"Wait here," she whispered. "I have a plan." Edie ran to the edge of the hut's shadow, but suddenly remembered something and hurried back to where the girl stood, still sobbing. Edie handed her the Sorting Hat.

"Take this," Edie said quickly. "It'll make you feel better." The girl looked at Edie, confused, but put on the hat and immediately calmed down. As Edie bolted over to the pumpkin patch, she heard the girl taking deep breaths and muttering something about _"wit beyond measure."_

Keeping as close to the hut as she possibly could, Edie grabbed a pumpkin and pulled– it was a lot heavier than she had expected, but she managed to drag four to the back of the hut where the teenage girl, much more composed, was waiting.

"When I get up, pass me the pumpkins," Edie said, surveying the structure. It was tall, but the roof sloped down in the back so that it hung only about four feet off the ground. Edie grabbed onto the ledge and pulled, but her arms weren't strong enough. The girl, looking eager to help, gave her a leg up, though, and Edie found herself on the roof.

"Thanks," Edie said.

"No problem," said the girl, smiling faintly. "I'm Susan Fawcett, by the way."

Edie had to suppress a wry smile. Life was ironic. She nodded for Susan to pass her up the first pumpkin. "I'm your neighbor," she replied.

From the top of the hut, Edie could see the Death Eaters clearly. They were just feet away from the hut, and if she didn't act soon, they would find Susan… and herself.

"Hey!" she shouted, peeking up over the highest point of the roof. "Hey! Up here! Look up here!"

The two wizards looked up, too surprised for a moment to curse her, their wands hanging at their sides.

"Heads up!" Edie cried, throwing the pumpkin down as hard as she could.

"PROTEGO!" the one still wearing his mask shouted. The pumpkin hit what Edie assumed was an invisible shield around the two men with a sickening crunch. They had obviously been expecting some sort of spell, and began to laugh when they saw the remains of the pumpkin scattered around their feet.

Edie reached down to Susan, who passed her up another pumpkin, which Edie threw down a few feet to the side of the oncoming Death Eaters. They didn't even bother to cast a spell to protect themselves.

"Is this what the rebels have resorted to?" one of them shouted cruelly up at Edie, who hurled another pumpkin, purposefully long. "Throwing _fruit?_"

"Here's the last one!" Susan Fawcett hissed as she passed up the final, and largest gourd. Edie groaned, and rolled it up the slope of the roof. She knew it was much too heavy for her to be able to throw it very far, but that didn't matter. The Death Eaters were almost under the ledge of the roof. Edie looked back at Susan.

"When I say go, unchain the dog and run, okay?" she asked. The real Susan Fawcett nodded silently, eyes wide.

Edie reached into her coat pocket, searching for anything sharp– driver's license, a couple coins… house key! That was it! She pulled out the key and jabbed it as far as she could into the pumpkin, making as deep a hole as she possible could. In the other pocket, Edie found barely a handful of brilliant green grains. She stuffed them into the hole and tipped it over the edge of the roof, watching with bated breath. If this didn't work… It did! As the pumpkin shattered on the ground behind the Death Eaters, bright green flames sprung up from the grass and the wizards shouted in confusion.

"GO!" Edie screamed, and Susan let the dog off its chain. Barking madly, the huge boarhound reached the Death Eaters in two great bounds. Their path was clear. Edie slid off the roof down the back slope and followed Susan up to the castle at a sprint.

Edie tore through the "Danger! Do Note Enter!" sign at a run and into an empty corridor. Strangely, there was no one around. The door into the Great Hall was opened, though, and an orange light filtered through from the sun. Edie slid in and lost herself among hundreds of others lining the wall. Two men circled each other in the middle room and, with a gasp, Edie realized that they were Voldemort and that Harry, Harry Potter, who was alive!

"But what does it matter?" Voldemort was saying, so softly that Edie could hardly here it. The words carried, though, in the hushed room. "… we duel on skill alone, and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy…"

"But you're late," said Harry, and Edie felt a thrill at the confidence she heard in his voice. Maybe she wouldn't die after all… maybe he would win! "… I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him."

Edie felt her eyes drawn to the long, thin wand that Harry held in his hand. She had no idea what was going on, but it clearly all centered on that wand.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Harry. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does…" Edie suddenly realized that she had been holding her breath. "…I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

Edie was momentarily blinded as the sun burst into view overhead. She felt a blast and voices shouting spells she'd never heard before– _"Avada Kedavra!" "Expelliarmus!"_ There was a thud, like a body hitting the ground, and Edie forced herself to open her eyes. There was a body lying on the cracked, steaming tile. It was Voldemort.

For a second, just a second, there was complete silence. And then– cheers and screams and laughter and crying like Edie had never heard before. She found she was laughing too, out of control, hysterical.

For a minute, she spotted the Weasleys, a patch of red in the sea of people, but they couldn't see here– they seemed to be at the very center of the people pressing inward, right with the hero, Harry Potter.

Edie sighed, and hugged some strangers she didn't know as she made her way out of the hall. In a daze, she found an empty classroom and a little box of Floo Powder.

"The Filbert House, Ottery St. Catchpole," she whispered, stepping into the fireplace. In a flash of green flames, she found herself nearly falling into her own living room. Luckily, it was empty. She snuck out the door and circled around the house to ring the front doorbell.

"_EDIE!_" Mrs. Filbert cried as her oldest daughter staggered inside.

"Hi Mum… you didn't call the police, did you?" Edie asked.

"Call the police… but why? We didn't know you'd gotten hurt!" Mrs. Filbert exclaimed. "Sharon only said you'd gone back to London!"

Edie sighed in relief and slumped down onto the couch. The last thing she remembered thinking before falling asleep was that, for once, she was happy she had a sister who liked to rummage through her things.


	21. To Grandmother's House

To Grandmother's House 

There was no doubt in Edie's mind that her little sister knew she hadn't been in London that night in June when she went to Hogwarts. Edie hadn't been particularly discrete after all, asking all those questions about things that Sharon figured were nightmares or hallucinations. And Sharon was a youngest child, Edie noted, which meant that, while undoubtedly adorable, she could manipulate anyone in the family to within an inch of their sanity– Edie had no doubt that her sister had covered for her because she wanted something out of it… the question was, what?

"Can I come in, Edie?" Sharon asked after dinner one night, knocking on Edie's bedroom door. "I have to ask you something."

Edie sighed and opened up. "Sure," and then, "What is it?" though she was pretty sure she knew exactly what _it_ was.

"I want to know where you were three months ago," she said quickly, as if nervous Edie wouldn't respond if she took too long on such a sensitive topic. "I mean, the night you snuck out. It couldn't have been really far… you didn't even take your car. And I've been thinking about it for _ever_, and I want to know, because it has something to do with what _I_ saw, doesn't it? And if it does, then it means I'm not crazy!" Sharon finished her speech nearly out of breath. Edie's eyes widened.

"You thought you were crazy?" she asked. How could she have thought her sister was going to try and blackmail her? She was only nine, after all (Sharon would say nine and a _half_). Of course she'd be scared, having witnessed some magic and not knowing what it was. Sharon was not nearly so inquisitive of her sister (she was going to be a _orthodontist_, for goodness' sake). It made sense that she would be worried– in fact, Edie found it likely that Sharon had only covered for her to protect herself, keep their parents from thinking she was involved in anything out of the ordinary.

"You're not crazy," Edie offered kindly before Sharon had a chance to answer. "Trust me, you're not… unless I'm crazy… but I'm crazy for a different reason." Edie sighed and looked at the pile of junk mail on her desk. All that, and not one letter from– no. They were mourning. They needed time. She'd only intrude, only make things worse. But you'd think… even if he didn't know she'd been at Hogwarts, he'd know that the danger was over, wouldn't he? She shook her head.

"I'm not?" Sharon asked in a small voice. "You're positive?"

"One hundred percent," Edie said seriously.

"Then what _am_ I?" she asked miserably. "I'm still having that dream, and I know it's crazy, but the magazine! I knew I saw it, and I knew that the things in it were moving, and I knew Dad talked about a Lovegood house around here… so I went." Edie though Sharon looked like she was confessing some grave sin.

Sharon pressed on: "I didn't go in!" she said hastily. "But I saw the house, and it looked like it had _exploded_." She looked up at Edie, terrified. "No house just explodes because it isn't up to code."

Edie nodded. "So…" she prodded. "What do you think happened?" She could tell her sister was teetering on the edge of something that made her very uncomfortable…

"Oh Edie!" Sharon cried. "Do you think they're involved with _terrorists_?"

"Sharon!" Edie said, standing up. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" Sharon was clearly looking for any excuse to avoid the answer that was staring her straight in the face.

"The moving pictures, the strange sudden memory loss, me running off for a night without a car, come on. Think!" Sharon only shook her head violently.

"They're _magic_, Sharon!" Edie cried, relieved just to let someone else know what she'd been hiding for so long. "There are wizards, and witches, and I've seen it– I've been all sorts of places. I was at Hogwarts last June– it's their school!"

Sharon stood up too, looking horrified. "You think _that's_ less ridiculous than my idea?" she asked scathingly.

"Yes!" Edie pleaded, "Because it's _true_!"

Sharon shook her head, and Edie had the sudden image of her shaking it so hard it would pop off and fly across the room. Sharon had clearly already lost her head. "You're the crazy one Edie!" she shouted.

"No!" Edie cried, begging. "It's true– you know it's true!" But Sharon just kept shaking her head, and Edie could hear the muffled voices of her parents downstairs. She hadn't fought with her sister for so long– they'd be wondering what was so serious, and soon, they'd come up and knock on the door. Sharon would run out shouting about Edie being convinced there was magic and– Edie could see her parent's incredulous expressions as if they were already in the room with her.

"Is this true, Edie?" her mother would ask, as thought pleading for her daughter to say no. But Edie wouldn't say no– she knew that now. It was such a weight off her chest to know that she wasn't hiding it anymore… even if her whole family would think her crazy.

"Mum!" Sharon cried, close to tears. "Mum, I need you!" Edie ran her fingers through her curly hair nervously, and watched as a ringlet bounced right back into place when she let go. Uncoil, spring back. Uncoil, spring back. Edie mused that she might be able to make it into some sort of metaphor about the resilience of the human spirit, or something, but she wasn't quite in the mood.

"You know I'm not lying," she said quietly to Sharon. Sharon's face might have flickered to shame for a moment, but it was back to anger in a flash. She yelled for their mother again.

Suddenly, Edie heard a sharp tap on the glass pane of her window. A large brown owl sat on the ledge, a rolled up piece of paper strapped to its leg. On an impulse, Edie opened the window and let the bird in. Sharon recoiled and hovered by the door, but Edie wasted no time in removing the paper, the parchment, now that she could se clearly.

Edie Filbert 

_413 Philpine Way, Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon_

_URGENT!_

"It's a letter," Edie said aloud, to no one in particular. "Go on, then," she said to the owl, which only clucked and refused to budge. "What– do I need to pay you?" The owl lifted its left leg to reveal a small pouch. "But I don't have any wizard money," Edie said. "I had a few _galleons_ once, but they'd be too big to fit in that pouch. Sorry." The owl hooted its displeasure and took off.

Just as Edie shut the window and began to unroll the parchment, Mrs. Filbert appeared in the doorway. "What is it?" she asked, clearly in a temper. The girls yelling at each other, at her, Edie's strange injuries–­ what an evening.

Sharon, looking exceedingly nervous, finally choked out a sentence: "Nothing, Mum! Sorry… Edie and I got into an argument, but it's all right now. Edie nodded quickly. It looked like Sharon might be coming around after all, or at least curious about the letter anyhow.

Mrs. Filbert pursed her lips and sighed. "Fine, then," she said tiredly. "Just next time you need me, make sure it's a real fight." Sharon continued to hover by the door uncomfortably even after their mother left.

"Go on then," she finally said, quiet. "Read it."

Edie smiled slightly and broke the wax seal of the letter. She began to read aloud:

"_Dear Miss Filbert,_

_I hope that the receipt of this letter does not cause alarm. _("Right, because great old owls delivering messages aren't alarming!" Sharon said squeakily. "The Ministry!" Edie exclaimed, amazed.). _Your name has been mentioned in recent legislative discussions about a proposed Muggle Protection Act, and your testimony is required to verify certain facts about how you managed to regain memories about the magical world– your name was found in a St. Mungo's file describing a Muggle girl whose memory was wiped. _("Well, whoever this is is certainly thorough," Edie muttered, disappointed that this letter was clearly not from whom she'd hope to get a letter from.) _It has also been brought to the attention of the Ministry that a girl by the name of Edie Filbert was at the Battle of Hogwarts in June. How you penetrated into the wizarding world is of utmost concern to legislators and particularly relevant in the discussion of the Muggle Protection Act. Please be assured, of course, that you will retain complete anonymity in formal records and the press. The Ministry of Magic has also declared that it has no intention of taking any sort of action to alter your memories at this time. _("At this time?" Edie asked.) _Please make arrangements to be picked up at eight o'clock Sunday the 8__th__ at Stoatshead Hill. Sincerely, Hermione Granger, Department of Magical Law Enforcement."_

Edie was silent for a minute, trying to comprehend what she had just read. Her name had come up? In legislative talks? And… she was needed to testify! That in itself was weird enough, but… how would they know that she had her memories back? The St. Mungo's records would make it clear that her memory had been wiped, but they could only know she'd gotten it back if someone had identified her at Hogwarts…

"Sunday's tomorrow," Edie mused.

Sharon looked at her incredulously, and stepped forward slowly to look at the letter for herself. She swallowed hard, and looked up at her older sister.

"It's real, isn't it?" she asked.

Edie nodded. "Yeah, I think it is."

Sharon bit her lip and looked at the letter again. "I don't think you can get away with sneaking off to 'London' again," she said quietly, looking away. "But we haven't seen Grandma in a long time…"


	22. The Muggle Protection Act

The Muggle Protection Act 

Grandma Filbert was so pleased to get a surprise visit from two of her grandchildren that she didn't even ask why they had come so early in the morning, or why Edie had to leave after only an hour. Telling both the girls they looked a bit peaky, she waved Edie off and Edie, for her part, tried not too act too nervous.

She felt like she was going to throw up.

Edie was about to go to the Ministry of Magic, the absolute last place she wanted to be after all that trouble getting her memories back the first time. What did "_the Ministry of Magic has also declared that it has no intention of taking any sort of action to alter your memories at this time_" mean anyway? Edie wondered if she'd make another great escape. Unlikely, considering that Britain's magical government now had her address. Perfect.

It was windy up on Stoatshead Hill, but Edie would have been shivering anyway. She looked at her watch– 7:59 am. It would be any minute now. There would be the distinctive–

CRACK!

There it was. Edie watched as a young woman in neat blue robes appeared out of nowhere. She had thick (thick!) brown hair tied back into a rather bushy ponytail and a reassuring smile. She held out her hand to Edie.

"Hermione Granger," she said pleasantly as they shook. "Magical Law Enforcement. You must be Edie Filbert, right?"

Edie nodded. "That's right," she said with a flickering smile. "I expect we're going to Apparate?" She had looked around and was quite disappointed that she couldn't see anything that might possibly be a Portkey– Side-Along Apparition had not been a very pleasant experience… but Edie reasoned that it might also have been the circumstances surrounding the apparition that weren't terribly pleasant.

Hermione Granger nodded briskly. "Yes," she said, and then, rather ironically, "The department sent me because they figured I'd know how to deal with Muggles best– I'm Muggleborn. I don't believe it made any difference, though." She nodded at Edie solemnly, took her hand, and pulled out her own wand. "Percy didn't mention you knew so much."

This time, when the dark tunnel began to close in, Edie wasn't sure why exactly she was choking.

They found themselves on an empty street in front of an empty phone booth. They jammed themselves inside and Hermione dialed a number and muttered into the phone. A badge clattered out where the coin return should have been. She handed it to Edie. LEGISLATIVE CONSULT. Edie found it much more polite than MUGGLE INTRUDER might have been. The phone booth began to drop.

"Welcome to the Ministry," Hermione said, gesturing to the grand entryway in the building they had just entered. Edie noticed a large marble statue in the middle of the hall– it was a large block, engraved with names and, as Edie stepped closer to get a better look, the words: _In Memorium– all magical and Muggle persons who gave their lives in the fight against Voldemort._ On top of the block stood four engraved figures, one carrying a diary, the next a locket, the third a cup, and the fourth a long sword. There was a plaque:

"_Harry James Potter, Ronald_ _Bilius Weasley, Hermione Jean Granger, Neville Frank Longbottom­– Hogwarts Gryffindors responsible for the obliteration of four of Voldemort's Horcruxes."_

"Why– that's you!" Edie said, amazed. Hermione smiled faintly, and changed the subject.

"You'll be going right through that door," Hermione said briskly, pointing. "Take the lift to Level Four; that's the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

Edie felt a sudden jerk in her stomach, but it wasn't a Portkey.

"Magical Law Enforcement usually takes care of this sort of legislation, but the sponsor's in IMC, and we're always happy to let another department pick up some slack." She laughed. "Anyway, that's Level Four, office thirteen. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," Edie said, and then, after Hermione Granger had already turned away– "Wait! Can you tell me who the sponsor is?"

Hermione nodded. "That's Percy Weasley, he's Head of Department," she said. "You won't know him; he recognized you at Hogwarts, after what happened at the World Cup." Her face darkened. "I'm so glad you came," she said seriously. "Your testimony will really help our case. I worried so much about my parents during…" her voice broke. "In any case, thank you."

Edie nodded. "It's nothing, really," she said reassuringly, and the two parted ways to take their respective lifts to their respective appointments.

_Department Head!_ Edie thought, as a purple paper bird circled her head. She tried to wave it away as she exited the lift, but it only followed her a few yards before darting ahead in front. Finally, she managed to find her way through winding hallways to Office 1-3, and not because she saw the plaque with the number on the door. The door was already open, and Percy Weasley stood in the doorway, looking worried, clutching a small purple piece of paper tightly. He held out an arm stiffly.

"Edie Filbert," he said formally. "Nice to see you– I'm glad you decided to come, and help with the legislation, of course."

"Yes, thank you," Edie said politely. "It's not a problem at all."

Percy stood still for a minute, but soon broke out of his reverie and ushered Edie into the office. It was huge, most of the walls covered by bookshelves. As Edie passed one shelf by, she made out a title: _The Implications of a Lack of Standardized Cauldron-Bottom Thickness Regulations in the International Wizarding Community_ by _Percy Ignatius Weasley_. Edie smiled.

"Congratulations on the promotion, by the way," Edie said as she took a seat across from Percy's desk. He pulled a thick file out of his desk drawer and nodded, looking up eagerly.

"It was almost a year ago," he said brightly, if a little pompous, "But thank you, in any case. I hope to move to magical Law Enforcement some time. I expect this legislation may serve as a sort of segue between departments." He frowned. "Not that I don't believe in the Muggle Protection Act on its own merit," he said quickly. "I– I wrote it, after all."

Edie nodded.

"I presume you'll want to look at the current draft, though of course!" he said, pushing a thick binder toward her. "We have quite a bit of support among most of the Ministry, but there are some highly influential members of the Wizengamot who believe that our current security measures are more than adequate to protect Muggles from magical activities and happenings. But of course, you have to take into consideration the fact that…"

Edie let Percy ramble on as she flipped through the binder.

_An Evaluation of the Effectiveness of Modern Anti-Muggle Security Practices in Regard to the Negative Impact on Muggle Communities _by _Percy Ignatius Weasley_

Wading through the pretentious diction, Edie began to get the gist of the bill.

_Effectively dealing with the inevitable slew of malcontents in the aftermath of the war, is, of course one of the foremost concerns of the Ministry in the area of magical security. An outlash against the groups who have achieved expanded rights after the recent defeat of the wizard Voldemort (namely, Muggleborn witches and wizards and Muggles) can be expected, and, if action is taken immediately, prevented._

_While facing wizarding adversaries, Muggles are at a distinct disadvantage, not necessarily because they are not endowed with the magical capabilities of witches and wizards, but because any attack involving magic would come as a complete surprise to a Muggle. Because it is a wizarding law (the 1692 International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy) that makes any knowledge of and preparation for a magical attack patently impossible for Muggles, it is the responsibility of the wizarding community to ensure that Muggles are protected to the fullest extent of Ministry powers._

Edie looked up, beaming. "Percy, this is wonderful! This is… perfect." Percy nodded eagerly and leaned forward to turn to another page.

"Well, that's the introduction you read, I believe– the reasoning behind the measures we're proposing," he said, clearly happy to be discussing his work with an admiring audience. "The actual resolution of the bill is _here_…"

Edie read on as Percy talked again and caught words and phrases such as "_magical defenses around Muggle houses in communities with a wizarding population greater than one third of the Muggle population _("And that's only to begin with!" said Percy brightly.)" and _"stricter security regulations on site at wizarding events as well as in the surrounding Muggle areas_ ("And _that's_ because of you, of course," he added.)."

"I think it's brilliant," Edie said.

"I'd hoped you'd say that," Percy said, and while he looked relieved, Edie noticed how tired he also looked. He had clearly put a lot of time and energy into that Act, and Edie wondered if it was to keep his mind off something else that had happened… She would help however she could if it could keep him from crashing.

"So, I was told that my testimony was needed…?" Edie asked. "I don't have to speak, do I? In front of anyone?" Edie was not the most confident public speaker.

"No, no, of course not," Percy said quickly. "Written testimony will be more than sufficient." Edie breathed a sigh of relief. "I'll need to ask you a number of questions for the formal report, of course…"

"Sure, sure," Edie said, nodding. Percy looked up, his face intent and serious.

"It's noon– I expect you're hungry?" Edie nodded slowly. "Good. That settles it then. I can get your testimony while we eat."

"Oh- oh- all right," said Edie, forcing back a smile. "Does the Ministry have a cafeteria?"

Percy stood up and opened the office door. "No, certainly not," he said. "Diagon Alley has a much better selection, I expect."


	23. Diagon Alley Again

**Diagon Alley Again**

Walking through The Leaky Cauldron for a second time was like walking into a dream. This was what she'd wanted, wasn't it? It didn't matter that she was only there for business– Edie had known for a long while that simply _knowing_ magic existed was not them same as being able to participate in it.

Percy tapped the brick wall in the chilly courtyard in a certain order, and the archway appeared. Edie grinned, looking out onto Diagon Alley. There was the Magical Menagerie she had caught scrofungulus in, Ollivander's, that Quidditch supply store, and Flourish and Blotts, a long line of people chattering brightly as they waited outside. Edie noticed a large flashing sign: ROLF SCAMANDER _in today to sign his new book "The Hype About Hippogriffs!"_

That was nothing, however, to the crowd outside another store nearby, which's banner proclaimed in large gold letters: WEASLEYS' WIZARD WHEAZES!

"Weasley?" Edie asked curiously, peering in the window. "Are you related?"

Percy nodded, face darkening. "My brothers, George and Ron. You've met George, of course."

Edie nodded, and decided not to press the subject. Discussing George clearly brought up painful memories about the other twin, Fred. Edie had a vague idea that Ronal Weasley (the same one from the statue?) had not been an original founder of the joke shop.

"In any case," said Percy, pulling out a sheaf of parchment. "We may as well get started while we look for–"

"Oh! Percy, dear– I thought you were working! Come in! Dad and Harry and Ginny are all inside too– for the new Scamander book!" Someone was waving them over from across the street, a plump, pleasant-looking woman in floral robes and a tall hat.

Edie looked up at Percy and saw that he was already looking at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

"My mum," he said quickly, looking away a little nervously.

Edie grinned up at Percy, who looked exceedingly unhappy. She knew that Percy had made up with his family, which meant… it was something else making him uncomfortable…

"Mrs. Weasley!" Edie shouted, taking off across the street, hand outstretched. "Very nice to meet you!"

"This is Edie Filbert, Mum," Percy said, a little out of breath after running to catch up. "She's helping me with the Muggle Protection Act."

Mrs. Weasley looked from Percy to Edie, beaming. "Of course she is," she said, smiling knowingly at Percy. Percy went red. "But come in! Come in! Everyone's here!"

Edie followed Mrs. Weasley into the store, Percy following, if only for damage control purposes. She led them up to a small table on the second level, where a tall red-haired man who must've been Mr. Weasley, Harry Potter, and the girl from Hogwarts Edie recognized as Ginny Weasley were talking to a pretty girl with long blonde hair who was clutching one of the new hippogriff books.

"Oh, yes, it was beautiful there," she was saying in a dreamy voice. "Rolf and I saw the most amazing things– oh, hello!"

"Hi Percy," said Harry Potter. "And…?"

Edie felt a little nervous standing there, all those people with their eyes trained on her. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Why was it that she could only be calm while sneaking into the magical world illegally? This visit was sanctioned by the Ministry, and her powers of speech had seemed to have disappeared.

"This is Edie Filbert," Percy said, over-loud, his hand gripping her shoulder protectively. "She's helping me with legislation."

Harry and Ginny looked like they wanted to apologize to Edie. Percy scowled.

"It- it really is a brilliant piece," Edie said, coming to Percy's defense even if her voice was a tad shakier than she would have liked. Mr. Weasley looked up, his face brightening.

"Are you talking about the Muggle Protection Act?" he asked. Edie nodded, and Mr. Weasley's face lit up with a sudden understanding. "Why– then you must be… Edie Filbert! Why, that's right! I've been following the progress of the bill, of course, knew I'd seen your name somewhere." Edie felt a sudden twinge of fear. Any minute now, Mr. Weasley would mention that she was a Muggle and the others would draw away, uncomfortably.

"Dad's been trying to get legislation like this passed for years," Percy said with a polite nod to his father. Mr. Weasley looked like he'd just been knighted. "But there was always something of an anti-Muggle atmosphere in the Ministry. In today's political climate, however, we might actually have a chance. No one wants to look like a malcontent, after all, now that the war is over."

"Precisely!" Mr. Weasley chimed in. He stood up to shake Edie's hand, positively beaming. "How _did_ you do it?" he asked eagerly. Edie felt her heart beating faster. Any second now…

"What did I always say about Muggles?" Mr. Weasley asked, looking at his family happily. "Brilliant! To get by without magic is one thing– but to completely pass it!" He clapped Edie on the back, and Edie felt Percy's grip on her shoulder tighten.

Mrs. Weasley sighed good-naturedly and smiled at Edie. "Arthur's always loved anything to do with Muggles," she said, "But even I have no idea what he's going on about this time!"

"The World Cup!" said Mr. Weasley rapturously. "_And_ Hogwarts! This is the–"

"_Dad_!" Percy said, visibly upset. "The Ministry has assured anonymity! Specific information related to the bill is classified and should not be released until the Department of Magical Law–"

"Percy, Percy, it's all right," Edie said, looking up. "I don't mind." She laughed weakly. She wasn't going to hide anymore. She was proud to be a Muggle, and besides, she got the feeling that these Weasleys weren't going to be prejudiced when they found out… She looked at Mrs. Weasley and tried to keep her voice steady.

"I snuck into the Quidditch World Cup a couple years ago," she said. "And I got into Hogwarts in June… for the Battle."

There was a pause where all were silent, but then, everyone broke out talking at once.

"The dementors! I remember you!"

"What have I been saying? For years, for years! What did I say? _Brilliant_."

"Edie, the Ministry has determined that–"

"Oh let off the Ministry for once, will you Perce?" Ginny asked. She was rapt in looking at Edie, and suddenly broke out into a grin. "I think Dad's right­– that really is brilliant." Edie laughed, mostly out of relief.

"So, tell me," Mr. Weasley was saying eagerly. "_Toasters_. Portable heating devices, right? Is that right?"

Edie smiled. "Er… not exactly."

"Goodness Arthur," Mrs. Weasley, scolded, hands on her hips. "Leave the poor girl alone!" She looked at Edie and shook her head. "Just don't let him get started, that's the way."

Edie laughed, but continued to try to explain toasters, and vacuum cleaners, and Montessori preschools as Ginny and Harry went back to talking to the blonde girl Edie found out was the read Luna Lovegood and Mrs. Weasley fussed over Percy working too many hours at the Ministry. Soon, it was closer to dinner than lunchtime. As Edie explained fluorescent lighting to Mr. Weasley, she noticed Mrs. Weasley pull Percy aside… and heard them mention her name.

"… really, Mum. Edie is working in conjunction with the Ministry, to help get my bill passed," Percy was saying. Edie risked a glance over her shoulder. His face had gone beet red again.

"So…" Mr. Weasly said, clearly thinking hard. "You're saying that people use this flower-scent lighting because it saves them money?"

"I am your mother, Percy," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling, which infuriated Percy. "I know what I see when I see it."

Edie smiled and continued patiently. "_Floor-ess-ent_, Mr. Weasley. In the long-term, it saves money because the bulbs last longer, but it also saves energy… helps the environment."

"Why don't you invite her over for dinner?" Mrs. Weasley pressed on. "Such a sweet girl, and she obviously thinks very highly of you!"

"Are you sure it has nothing to do with plants?" Edie, blushing, mused that using words such as "bulbs" and "the environment" might not have done much to alleviate the confusion.

Out of the corner of her eye, Edie watched Percy storm away from his mother and return sourly to the table where she and Mr. Weasley had moved on to discussing Tetris. A moment later, Mrs. Weasley pulled her husband away, reprimanding him for "bothering Percy's friend."

"You still need to tell me how you got your memory back," Percy said as soon as his parents were gone, an edge of impatience, likely from the conversation with Mrs. Weasley, still in his voice.

"Well, that's easy," Edie said with a wry smile. "I just got myself tortured."

Percy blanched, and any and all impatience vanished. "_Tortured?_" he asked, voice much higher than before. "I thought– I thought you just found a way to re-learn everything!"

Edie shrugged and shook her head. "No, but, well… it wasn't so bad," she said calmly.

Edie felt the nervous grip tighten on her shoulder again. "Edie," Percy breathed, horrified.

"Well," Edie said, glancing over at Mrs. Weasley, who was surreptitiously watching them. "I've found that there's something to be said for getting _everything_ back, rather than just knowledge, facts."

Percy looked at Edie, resolute, then said very quickly– "Do you want to come to dinner at the Burrow tonight?"

For a moment, Edie thought that she might have caught some other horrible wizarding disease because she felt like her face was on fire. After a moment, though, she realized she was just blushing so hard. "I'd love to," she said, finding herself unable to make eye contact yet.

Percy breathed an audible sigh of relief. And then, as if to recover– "We haven't gotten much work done on the report, anyway. I have more questions that I– the Ministry, I mean– needs answered," he said as the hand on her arm unclenched. Edie reached up quickly and grabbed the hand before it could get away.

"I'd be very happy to answer them," she said, finally looking up at Percy, whose smile was genuine and, for once, free from all smugness.

"And I just want you to know as well that I will do everything within my power to keep you from losing your memories again, not now when we– you, I mean, finally have… everything back."

Well, perhaps not _all_ smugness, but Edie had the feeling that she could get used to that.


	24. Nineteen Years Later

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who's read to the end. Here it is! And for those of you who are so inclined: the sequel, "A Muggle in the Ministry of Magic," is currently in progress. Lots of things happen both before, and after, the Epilogue, after all. Once again, thanks! Disclaimer: Not mine.

**Nineteen Years Later**

Ignatius had absolutely insisted that they get to King's Cross early that morning, the first of September. Edie hadn't minded– it was such a perfect autumn day, warm but not boiling, with a crisp breeze. The train station would be crowded as usual, anyway, once the crowds of students and their parents began arriving, and the Weasleys were able to avoid driving in circles mindlessly looking for an open parking spot. Besides, Edie got the feeling that her husband wanted to arrive early as well, likely to point out his oldest son to anyone who would listen.

"Prefect!" he said proudly to Edie, for the hundredth time. "We'll have another Head Boy in the family in two years' time– I guarantee it."

Edie nodded and watched as her oldest child helped their only daughter load her trunk onto the train. She smiled. Ignatius Weasley was almost an exact miniature of his father– tall and thin, with red hair, thick glasses, and a rigid adherence to the rules.

"Kate should make prefect too," Percy continued, unphased by his wife's silence. "She doesn't get into trouble. Good for Ignatius, really keeps her in line."

As Edie watched her two oldest children, she couldn't imagine that Ignatius had ever had to do much to keep Kathryn in line– Kate worshipped the ground he walked on.

"Mum! Dad! Guess what Iggy's just told me!" Kate said brightly, running over as if to prove Edie's point.

"What is it, Kate?" she asked, feigning worry. "Ignatius isn't pranking you again, is he?"

Thirteen-year-old Kathryn Weasley looked affronted. "Mum– I don't–"

"Your mother's the one pranking you, Kate," said Percy, looking at his wife, exasperated. "You know your brother would never do that."

"Of course not, Kate," Edie said, forcing back a laugh. Percy would sooner pull a prank than Ignatius– perhaps solemnity concentrated through the generations.

"Well, anyway," Kate continued, unperturbed. "He said he'd gotten an owl from Professor Slughorn this morning and forgot to tell me until now– I've been invited to join the Slug Club this year!"

Edie smiled at her daughter. In appearance, Kate was much more like herself than Ignatius was– she had her round face and curly hair (though still in the requisite Weasley red). Even in terms of personality, she was closer. Though she'd never do anything that might disappoint her brother (i.e. get herself into any sort of trouble), she was much less serious and much more cheerful.

"Congratulations, Kate!" Edie said, not at all surprised. Ginny had told her about the infamous "Slug Club," and with all the Weasleys' connections to Harry Potter and the Second War, not to mention Percy being head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she knew it would only be a matter of time. Ignatius had been inducted in his third year as well.

"Good work, Kate!" Percy exclaimed– another child's achievements to brag about, Edie thought. Kate beamed.

"Mum, I just saw Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione. They're unloading over there," Ignatius said, appearing next to his sister. He pointed a little behind them, but Edie couldn't see anyone through the dense vapor of the station.

"Good, good," said Percy, nodding. "I need to talk to your aunt about the Department of Game and Sports' latest additions to last month's broomstick regulation resolution. Absolutely ridiculous, the changes they expect to make!"

"I've been reading up on that," Ignatius said, nodding fervently. "I completely agree– a maximum height of fifty feet in a Muggle neighborhood is far to high." Discussing politics with his father was one of Ignatius's favorite pastimes. Edie didn't mind the occasional break for herself as willing audience either, come to think of it.

"Oh _Iggy_!" Kate interrupted, peering over Edie's shoulder. "The Potters are here too!"

James Potter was in Kate's year, and Edie knew that her children did not find their cousin quite as amusing as the other branches of the Weasley family.

"Well I'm a prefect now," said Ignatius, arms crossed resolutely. "He'll have to mind me this year. _All_ the times I've heard him talking about sneaking around at night, and secret passages. Not this year." Percy listened to his son with a look of pride and Kate nodded in agreement. Edie had the feeling that she was going to be getting a _lot_ more letters about James Potter this year.

"Do either of you know where Arthur's gone off to?" Edie asked, looking around suddenly. Their youngest son, Arthur, was eleven– no doubt he'd gone off to talk to his cousins Rose and Albus Severus, but still… Edie worried the most about Arthur.

"I'll find him," said Percy, clearly sharing the same worry. Edie nodded and watched her husband walk off through the thick vapor. A few minutes later, Ignatius and Kate left to talk to some of their fellow Hufflepuff friends. Edie, alone then, decided she would go look for Arthur too…

"… doing sitting here all alone?" she heard a voice ask from somewhere nearby. She looked around, and made out the vague outline of Percy crouching down to talk to a little boy sitting stonily against a pillar.

"Nothing," Arthur said quietly.

"Well, it's definitely not nothing," Percy replied. "Why don't you go say goodbye to your cousins? Don't you want to talk to Rose and Al?"

Edie heard Arthur sniff a little, as if he'd been crying. "I don't want to talk to them," he said sullenly. "I went over to say goodbye, but they didn't see me so I left. They kept talking about what House they'd get Sorted into. They were all worried they'd get put in Slytherin."

"And you didn't want to talk to them?" Percy asked.

"No!" said Arthur angrily. "They're stupid!"

"Arthur," said Percy sternly. "You do not talk about your cousins like that– or anyone like that, for that matter."

Arthur fell silent for a moment, but spoke again quietly. "That's not what I meant," he said miserably. "I just meant… they're all worried about getting into the wrong House, and I think that's stupid. _I_ wouldn't care if I got Slytherin… at least they get to go."

Edie brought her hand to her mouth. She had never heard her son talk like that! Of course, Edie had figured Arthur had always been the quiet one because he felt a bit left out, not being magic, but he had never said anything directly about it to her. Maybe he felt her might insult her if he expressed that he felt inferior for being a Muggle, since she was one too.

"Arthur," Percy said. "You go to a wonderful school, and do you know what your English teacher told me last year? You were the top of your class in creative writing. You're very lucky!"

"It's not the same," Arthur said.

Percy sighed. "Let me tell you a story about your Granddad– you know you're name after him, you know." Arthur didn't respond. "My father always said that–"

"_Muggles are brilliant_," said Arthur, like he was reciting a story he'd heard many times in the past. "I know."

"Well," Percy continued, clearly determined to get through to his youngest son. "Let me tell you a story about your mother. She–"

"_Helped you pass a bill through the Wizengamot_," he recited again. "I know that one too."

Edie heard Percy laugh drily. "That's not the one," he said. Edie frowned. She and Percy had never told their children about how they met– illegally, at the World Cup. They agreed that it might send them the wrong message about rules and authority. And yet… she couldn't think of any other relevant stories about herself that her children didn't know.

"When your mother was seventeen," Percy went on, having finally gotten Arthur's attention. "My family had tickets to the Quidditch World Cup. She heard your Aunts and Uncles walking by her house talking about Quidditch things, and wizards and Muggles, that like, you know." Edie couldn't see him, but assumed that Arthur was nodding. Percy went on–

"In any case, she thought something funny was going on, so she followed them."

"She _followed_ them?" Arthur asked, incredulous.

"Not only that," said Percy. "She watched them take a Portkey, remembered what Granddad Weasley had said about other locations, went and found one pretending to be a witch, and got to the World Cup."

"No way!" Arthur said.

"It's true," said Percy.

"So what happened? Did Mum get caught?"

Percy sighed. "Not at the World Cup. She made it to the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley before she caught a wizarding sickness and had to be taken to St. Mungo's. That's where they wiped her memory." Edie was glad Percy had decided to leave out the Death Eater attack part– this speech was supposed to boost Arthur's morale, after all.

"Oh," said Arthur, obviously disappointed.

"What? Do you think that's it?" Percy asked. "No, no, not at all. Mum lived near the Lovegoods, and she snuck up to their house and got a copy of _The Quibbler_ before she had her memory wiped."

"Wow," said Arthur. "Mum sure did a lot of sneaking when she was a teenager."

"That isn't the point," Percy said hastily. Edie grinned. "The point is– some of the things she read worried her… about You-Know-Who coming back. So she wrote to the current headmaster of Hogwarts–"

"Albus Dumbledore!" Arthur finished in an awed sort of voice. "Did he write her back?"

"Better," said Percy. "He came and visited her at her house. And do you know what he said?" Arthur, presumably, shook his head. "He said that he'd always thought Muggles had an 'incredible ingenuity that can out-perform even the best cast spells.' And we know that's true, because even after your mother had her memory wiped, she managed to Floo herself to Hogwarts during the Battle, get all her memories back, and fight off two Death Eaters. Honest."

"Mum did all that?"

"Yes she did," said Percy, pulling his son to his feet. "So I don't ever want to hear you complaining about being a Muggle again. Didn't I say you were lucky?"

"Bloody he–"

"Language," said Percy, cutting off Arthur mid-swear. Arthur laughed. "And, if you don't mind, you should probably keep this our secret," Percy added.

"Why?" asked Arthur.

"Well, you don't want to go making your brother and sister feel bad, do you?" Percy asked, arriving at the spot where Edie sat on Ignatius's trunk, pretending she'd been there all the time.

"Oh Arthur! Where have you been? I've been so worried!" Edie cried, hugging her youngest child.

"Just over there, Mum," said Arthur, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "Dad's been telling me Granddad Weasley stories again." Edie had to admit– Arthur was an extremely good liar. She'd have to file that away for future reference. Besides, if her Muggle son was anything like his Muggle mother, they might have one troublemaking kid after all. Honestly, Edie could care less.

"Granddad Weasley stories, eh?" Edie asked, standing up and putting her arm through her husband's.

"I'm going to go say bye to Al and Rose and James!" Arthur said, running off into the vapor again.

"Don't get lost!" Percy shouted after him. Edie smiled up at her husband and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I love you," she said.


	25. One last thing

One last thing…

This is an announcement to readers and followers of this story that part two of this story, A Muggle in Magical Britain is, indeed, complete. After all, when there's a trilogy the second part always has to end on a cliffhanger, right?

Right.

HOWEVER, part three is in the works, and if you still want to see what happens next I shall direct you now over to my third Muggle Studies story, "World War Wizard," which you can find at my profile, and in which _we_ might just find out what happens in a world with no International Statute of Secrecy.

Because let's be honest – would _you_ want to be kept in the dark?

- Tegildess


End file.
